


Distress

by ForTheLoveOfSalazar



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman - Freeform, Edward Nygma - Freeform, F/M, Jervis Tetch - Freeform, Jonathan Crane - Freeform, Scarecrow - Freeform, Sexual Content, The Riddler - Freeform, The mad hatter - Freeform, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 97,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForTheLoveOfSalazar/pseuds/ForTheLoveOfSalazar
Summary: Juggling work at My Alibi and online classes is going to be the least of Angela Stirling's problems once she has a run in with the Dark Knight and one of Gotham's most dangerous rogues. Scarecrow/OC. -originally posted on another site but wanted to try posting here-





	1. Chapter 1

"Sweetheart, can you pass me that eyeliner?"

"Sure. So, like I was saying, these customers have no damn respect. I'm a server. Not a showgirl." There was a heated stare coming from her co-worker through the vanity mirror. Angela inwardly cursed herself for her mistake, "Sorry, Steph. I didn't mean nothin' by it. I just mean that I wish they would keep their grubby hands off of me. That's not the job I signed up for."

"Mmhmm," Stephanie hummed, unconvinced by Angela's apology. "Listen Angie, you should of thought of that before you signed up for a job at My Alibi. If you didn't want the customers touching you then you should have applied for a job at the bank. Where they keep you locked up in a glass box all day."

Angela pursed her lips at the thought. "You've gotta be kidding me. I don't know if you remember but this is Gotham we live in. Working at a bank is suicide."

Working at My Alibi was bad, but working at the bank was insane. A heist occurred nearly every week, and in Gotham being held at gunpoint was the least of someone's worries. There's no way she would work at a bank. At least they got a small amount of respect at My Alibi. It was pretty much known not to start a fight there. Though it would be bad luck to say there never was a fight or heist, because the moment you said it, there was bound to be one.

Visitors consisted of the occasional thug or mobster here and there, and even big names like Harvey Dent and Roman Sionis could bee seen with a lovely lady on their lap. Customers knew better than to cause any permanent damage to the club. A place like this was for relaxation, and everyone knew better than to destroy a place that more than a few of Gotham's criminals saw as a good place to get a drink and have a little fun.

Stephanie put the finishing touches to her makeup and stood from her chair, giving Angela a hardened look. "That's what I'm saying. At least you've got a job where you're more likely to get groped than to get your head blown off." She brushed past Angela and headed to the stage entrance. "Count your blessings, Kiddo." She called over her shoulder from the doorway.

Angela sighed and looked into the dusty vanity mirror as she brushed her hair back. She looked tired. There were a few bags under her brown eyes and her short black hair was a bit greasier than she would have liked. Having a late night job and taking online classes was taking a toll on her. She straightened her vest and grabbed her serving tray as she headed out to the showroom.

The night was just starting and the customers had just begun to trickle in. A few of the show girls had started slow, rhythmic dances on their small stages but they wouldn't be doing anything spectacular until later in the night. Angela took the orders of a group that had come in together. One of them took a keen interest in her fish net stockings. She had an exasperated look on her face as she headed to the bartender, Don, to fill orders.

"Why the long face?" Don asked as Angela set the order sheet down on the counter.

"I can just tell it's gonna be a long night." She said looking over her shoulder to the table she was serving.

"Who do I need to beat up in the back alley?" Don joked as he wiped down the bar.

Angela laughed, "No one yet, but I get the feeling it won't be long before I need to be rescued." She said posing like a damsel in distress and batting her lashes at him.

Don chuckled and started filling out her orders. "Nah, you've got this, Med School. I think you're a whole lot tougher than you think you are. You can handle those guys. No manhandling from me necessary." He winked as he set the drinks down on her serving tray.

"Thanks, Donnie." Angela smiled as she took her tray and headed back to the table.

Throughout the night the stares continued, as was to be expected when working at a club like My Alibi and while wearing a uniform like the one she was required to wear. High heels and fishnet stockings drew more attention to her legs than she cared for, and her leotard and vest provided little coverage to her upper body. The most aggravating part of the job was the nick names the customers would give her. "Sweet Cheeks", "Honey Bun", "Sugar Lips". No matter what nick name they decided to give her, she hated it. It put her teeth on edge and made it difficult to provide service with a smile.

She was by no means the most attractive girl working in the club and she found it difficult to understand why she caught the attention of multiple thugs a night. A large part of her mind assumed it was because they saw her as more attainable. She honestly couldn't complain about her job though. Stephanie had a point. She had to learn how to deal with the unwanted attentions of the customers.

Now was a perfect time to decide how to cope as one of Cobblepot's lesser thugs slapped her ass as she left to go fill his order. She slowly turned back around, a sweet smile on her face. Don watched curiously from the bar, eager to see how she would handle the situation. The man at the table smiled back drunkenly, "Somethin' wrong, sweet cheeks? You forget my order already?"

"Oh that's hilarious!" She giggled, swatting his shoulder a bit harder than he had been expecting. Angela grabbed his hand and smiled flirtatiously as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "Touch me again and I'll be sure to cut this hand off." She told him in a sickeningly sweet tone as she dug her nails into his palm.

His eyes went wide at first and then he began to wince as he noticed the pain she was causing to his hand. He pulled out of her grip. "Alright, you crazy bitch. I'll back off."

"Glad we had this little talk, sweet cheeks." She turned on her heel and headed towards the bar.

Don had a smile on his face as she walked over, her posture radiating the pride she felt after her encounter. "Wow, what did you tell him? The poor guy looked mortified."

"I told him I would cut his hand off."

Don swelled with pride. Little Med School was growing up so fast. He set a glass on the counter and smiled. "I think that calls for a shot."

Angela smiled and downed the drink before giving Don a high five and finishing up her last few tables for the night. As the customers began to dwindle the music stopped and chairs were turned over onto clean tabletops. She had two tables left before Don told her to head home, saying that he would finish her last few tables for her.

By the end of the night she was exhausted and her feet were aching from the heels she wore. She was dreading the walk home as she headed into the dressing room and put black jeans on over her fishnets. She would have to be insane to walk to her apartment in the Narrows at this time of night wearing what My Alibi considered a uniform. Though to be honest there were crazies out there wearing much worse. She grabbed her coat, taser in pocket, and headed out into the chilly Gotham air.

**AN: So this is my first fanfic and I'm really curious and excited to know what people think. Future chapters are likely to be longer. I just wanted to know what people thought first. Comments, faves, follows. Any of those would make my day. Any critiques are welcome too.**

**Angela, Stephanie, and Don are my characters. Any others belong to DC.**


	2. Chapter 2

Walking down Gotham streets at 4 a.m. never was Angela's favorite part of the day. One had to be weary of not only muggers, but drunk drivers, and even the occasional notorious criminal or henchmen of notorious criminals. Sure she had taken a few self defense classes, but she hadn't exactly learned enough to classify her hands as weapons. So she kept her hands in her pockets, wrapped around her taser in case there was ever a need to use it.

Her everyday life consisted of pretty much the same thing. She would spend a majority of the day on her laptop, studying and handing in her assignments through email to her online professors and work nights at My Alibi. She couldn't afford to go to an actual university to study, so taking online classes was her only choice if she wanted to become a doctor.

It hadn't always been the career she saw herself pursuing. Before all of this she had been studying at Gotham University to become an engineer, but after her father died the money stopped coming in and she had no one else to help her pay off tuition. They weren't rich by any means, but her father was an orderly at Arkham and that landed them in middle class range, at least. After his death Angela decided that she would pay homage to her father by becoming a medical student.

Things were difficult for her now, even though her classes were much cheaper than they were before. She had to resort to finding an apartment in the Narrows, where crime ran rampant. She was able to afford her first months rent, a few self defense classes, and a fairly modest security system before her inheritance ran out.

It was a bad habit she had, but as Angela walked down the street she allowed her mind to wander. She was thinking of how she was going to be able to afford her water bill this moth and questioned whether she would be able to handle existing another week solely on ramen noodles and toast.

She was a block away from her apartment when she heard scuffling in an abandoned apartment building she was approaching. She kept her nose down and refused to look in the direction of whatever was going on, as was customary in this part of town. She did her best to mind her own business but doing so became difficult when someone was thrown out of a second story window and into the alley she needed to take in order to get home. She stopped dead in her tracks. The shock of what she was seeing was taking her brain a moment to process.

In the cluttered alley, the man that had been thrown through the window made a feeble attempt to get up off the ground. The attempt was stopped short when another figure dropped down into the alley and picked him up. Angela couldn't believe her eyes. The Batman himself was standing right in front of her and was about to bring an end to one of Gotham's rogues, but oddly enough, something didn't seem right.

He threw the man he was holding up against the wall and began beating him with relentless force. The man against the wall was wheezing through the mask he wore over his face. That was when something in Angela snapped to attention. People in Gotham saw Batman as their savior, but what she saw in front of her was a menace. He was a bully that the other bullies were afraid of, and apparently with good reason.

She had no idea what had gotten into her but she ran towards the Batman and started slamming her fists onto his back, "Let him go! Stop it, you're going to kill him!" she knew she was going completely unnoticed when the Bat slammed his fist into the man's rib cage another time. There was a horrifying cracking noise as his fist landed again.

Angela reached into her pocket and dreaded what she was prepared to do next. She waited for an opening and pressed her taser into Batman's side. He wailed in pain before pulling his elbow back and slamming it into her shoulder. Angela yelped as she fell to the floor, but her momentary distraction had given the other man the chance to stick Batman with a needle filled with a golden-yellow substance.

Batman fell and began screaming, a look of horror on his face, giving Angela the chance to run over to the other man and wrap her arm around him as he fell back onto the brick wall of the alleyway. He was Wheezing harder now barely able to breathe as she helped him stumble out onto the next street. Luckily her apartment was right up the street.

"Come on. We can make it. It's not far." She told him as it began to drizzle. He was relying heavily on her in order to move and was on the verge of passing out. Luckily for her he was extremely thin, making it easy to still move quickly despite his injuries.

They were in front of her apartment building now and as soon as they made it into the entryway he collapsed and mumbled what sounded like "Stupid girl," before passing out completely.

Angela huffed and sat on the ground of her complex's entryway. She leaned her cheek against one of the letterboxes embedded into the wall and let the cool metal calm her down as she caught her breath. "Shit. What have I done?" she said, burying her face in her hands. The rain outside had made her hair and face slick and she was desperate to get into her apartment.

She looked in front of her and groaned. What was she going to do with this guy? Could she leave him here out in the hall and hope that he would find his own way to safety? That was doubtful. He was out cold and it was more likely that some sicko in her building would get to him first. Dragging him into the elevator was going to be a bitch.

Angela stood and removed the heels she was still wearing from work, "You better not wake up and go all crazy on me," she mumbled as she hooked her arms under his from behind and lifted him. She was grateful he was so thin because it made dragging him towards the elevator doors a little easier, but he was still heavier than her and it was still more difficult than she cared to admit.

She was finally able to get him in and press the button leading to the fourth floor. She dragged him into her small apartment and disabled her home security before pulling him up onto the couch.

Unfortunately her work didn't end there. She threw her jacket and work vest onto her coat hanger and headed straight into the bathroom to find her medical supply kit.

Before getting started she made sure to discretely, but thoroughly, pat him down to check for any weapons. She found three vials of whatever he had used to stun Batman and a razor blade hidden in one of his sleeves. She hid his things, not wanting to go through any psychological or physical damage once he woke up.

She then removed the burlap mask that covered his face and was slightly surprised at how defined his cheekbones were, though that could have just been a consequence of his malnourishment. She wiped the dirt and sweat from his face with a damp cloth and was sure to be gentle around the bruise that was already forming on his brow. She then cut open the shirt that covered his chest and prepared to clean and bind his wounds.

It was time for her to put all that medical knowledge to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

"Alfred, are you there?"

"Yes, of course. Everything alright, Master Wayne?" Alfred spoke back through their communications system.

The Dark Knight groaned and picked himself up off the floor. He had no idea how he had ended up back in the abandoned apartment building, but he climbed out of the broken window and onto the nearest rooftop. Flecks of morning light had just started to make their way over the horizon.

"I'm alright, Alfred. I just had a little run in with a new strain of fear toxin. I'm sending you a blood sample so we can generate an antidote."

The rain from earlier continued to fall as the caped crusader waited for Alfred to receive the sample.

"Sir, there's nothing here. Your blood is clean."

"That's impossible. I was only hit with the fear toxin two hours ago."

"I'm sorry sir, but it's true. There are no trace amounts of whatever Dr. Crane has given you this time. Were you at least able to apprehend him?"

"He got away." There was an aggravated tone to his voice that didn't go unnoticed. "Someone intervened; it's a good thing too. I almost lost it today, Alfred. It took a taser to snap me out of it." There was guilt and regret in Bruce's voice. Things for him hadn't been the same since the fall of Arkham City. He was mourning his losses.

Alfred truly felt bad for him, but there was still a dangerous criminal on the loose and they could leave no stone unturned. "Who attacked you?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't get a good look at them. I think it was a woman, though. She must have dragged him off somewhere."

"May I suggest setting up a crime scene then?"

Batman turned the detective vision on in his cowl and looked down into the alley for any clues. "It's no use. The rain has washed away any trace of where they might have gone. I'm heading back to the Batcave. No reason to lingering here any longer."

"Very well, Master Bruce."

**000**

Angela woke up late in the afternoon after having passed out from complete exhaustion. She had spent several hours stitching and bandaging the wounds of her unexpected guest. The last thing she was sure to do was tie one of his wrists to a leg of her coffee table with some cloth she ripped from his shirt. It wouldn't keep him in place if he were to wake up, but she hoped it would at least give her a bit of warning and time to defend herself should anything happen. To be quite honest, it was more to give her peace of mind than anything else.

It wasn't likely that he would be waking up anytime soon with all the pain medication she had given him. Even if he were to wake up it was going to be nearly impossible for him to move with all the injuries he had received.

All these factors granted Angela enough reasons to reel down from her adrenaline rush and get some much needed sleep. When she got up she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rustled her tangled hair. She grabbed her towel before heading to the bathroom. As she stepped out into the main room she looked to the couch.

"Shit," She grumbled as she continued her way into the bathroom. "Why couldn't it have been a dream?"

She set the water to a steamy temperature before undressing and getting in. she allowed the water to wash over her hair and rested her head against the cool tiles. The hints of a head ache had already started to creep up the back of her neck, and her day had barely just started.

She took her time freshening up for the day. She had a lot to think about, after all. For starters, what was she going to do about this guy passed out on her couch while she worked her shift at My Alibi. There was no way she was going to be able to call out. Grocery shopping day was coming up and she wasn't going to force herself to eat leftovers and bread for the next few days. Not again.

She stepped out of the bathroom and headed to her room to get dressed and study before she had to get ready for her shift. Usually she would sit on her couch because the space in the living room helped her focus. That option wasn't really available to her at the moment, and so her mind kept wandering. She was hardly able to retain any of the information she had spent hours reading.

Thought the day her guest had not stirred even once. She went into the main room several times to check that he was still breathing. At around 8 p.m. she changed into her uniform and headed into the main room. She nudged the thin man on her couch several times and even prodded the purpling bruise on the left side of his face; just to be sure he wouldn't wake. Satisfied that she had drugged him up enough to keep him knocked out until her shift was over, she headed out the door and made her way to the club.

Her only reassurance was that she had nothing of significant value in her apartment besides her laptop, and she had hidden his weapons away, just in case.

Angela was actually happy to be back at work. It gave her a sense of normality that she would have usually sought out in her apartment. Today she was working a short shift – 8:30 to 12 a.m. – which she was grateful for. She didn't want to leave some stranger in her house alone for longer than she needed to.

As soon as the doors opened at 9 the customers were lined up outside and ready to have a good time. Business was booming as it always was on a Saturday night and that meant lots of tables and lots of tips. Despite hating the customers that came in, Angela loved working Saturday nights. The show girls always had spectacular numbers throughout the night and there was even a live band that would come in sometimes. The atmosphere was buzzing and the music was rhythmic, she couldn't help swaying her hips as she stood at the bar and waited for Don to fill her orders.

"Better watch out, Med School. All that swaying is gonna get you some unwanted attention if you don't cool it," Don chuckled as he looked over her shoulder to a group that was indeed enjoying the view. "Or maybe it'll just get you a nice tip."

Angela looked over her shoulder to give the offending group a glare. Her stern look hardly did anything to deter them but most of them turned their attention back to the girls on the main stage. Angela huffed and turned back to Don. "Whatever, I want to enjoy the music tonight, let them stare. As long as they keep their hands off I'm happy."

"Had a rough time since I last saw you or something?" He asked as he set her drinks on the serving tray.

"You have no idea." She headed towards her table and worked on trying to stay calm before having to head home. She had a fairly good night, only having to put one or two customers back in their place. Most of them were too busy paying attention to the show girls to give the servers any of their attentions, though she was still able to catch enough attention to bring a huge tip home tonight.

She bussed her last few tables and headed into the dressing room to change into her jeans and clock out for the night. As she was pulling her jeans over her tights she looked over to where Stephanie was fixing her makeup for her next number. Hanging out of a props box near Steph was a pair of fuzzy black cuffs.

A light bulb went off in Angela's head and she walked over to Stephanie's makeup table and grabbed the cuffs out of the box. "Are you gonna need these tonight?"

Steph paused to look at what Angela was holding and gave the woman a sly grin. "Got plans for a special someone tonight, Angie?"

Angela tried her best not to cringe. How exactly was she going to explain this one. If she said yes, she was bound to come off as a sex crazed maniac. If she said no, well that would just look suspicious. "Yes," she said, a completely blank look on her face.

Stephanie was shocked into silence for a moment before her smile came back. "Well alright then, Med School. Go get 'um," She said as she reached into her vanity drawer to pass her the keys. "Give him a few spanks for me," Steph gave Angela a wink as she handed her the key.

"Yeah, whatever," Angela turned and stuffed the set into her coat pocket and headed out for the night.

As she walked she did her usual ritual of stuffing her hands in her pockets and keeping her hand wrapped around her taser. "Please let this be a normal walk home," she sighed as she rounded the first corner toward her house.

By the time she made it to her building her heart was pounding. She was extremely nervous about what she might find in her apartment. Would he be awake? Was he going to be a threat? What if the Batman had already found out where she lived and was waiting to take her in to the G.C.P.D. the moment she stepped into her apartment?

"Alright," She sighed as she approached her door. She turned her key in the lock and let the door swing open before looking in from the hall. She learned a long time ago how to check corners before stepping fully into a room where there might be a threat. She took a cautious step into the room and leaned forward to check the couch.

She gave a sigh of relief and walked in to disable her security system. Her guest was still passed out on the couch. For a brief moment she wondered if she might have overdosed him on pain killers but was relieved when she got closer and could hear his wheezing breaths. She quietly hung up her coat and pulled the cuffs out of her coat pocket.

Angela prodded the man on the couch, just to be cautious. He didn't stir at all so she moved to put the cuff around his wrist and around the leg of her coffee table. He wouldn't be able to get free without breaking the leg off the table since there was a beam intersecting between each of the legs. Admittedly, it still wasn't the best form of security- and visions of this stranger staking her with her coffee table leg while she slept passed through her mind- but it would have to do for now.

Satisfied that she would be safe for now, she headed into the bathroom to shower and change into pajamas for the night. As she was reheating some leftovers she heard a rustling and then a low coughing.

"Crap." She had a lot of explaining to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan Crane was used to waking up from an unconscious state after going head to head with the Bat. What he wasn't used to was waking up in this amount of pain, especially in a location that wasn't the asylum. He honestly didn't care where he was at the moment. All he knew was that it was warm and that it wasn't Arkham, and that's all that mattered.

He was disoriented and there was a sharp pain in his chest. He began coughing and realized that his right arm was restrained. He couldn't see well but he heard footsteps coming from a nearby room as he made an attempt to ease his coughs. A woman came in quickly from the kitchen and grabbed a pair of glasses off of a bookshelf as she headed towards the couch.

"Shh, it's alright," she said as she tried to hand him his glasses. "Try not to move too much, you've been severely injured. Just breathe."

Jonathan reached out for his glasses and eased his coughing into low wheezing breaths. "Who are you?" He asked through his gasping breaths.

"It's alright. You're safe here. I swear I'm not gonna hurt you." She put up her hands to show that she meant no harm. She was a bit startled by the intensity of his cold blue eyes and the sternness of his voice. He could see that she was falling into a bit of a panic. She clearly wasn't prepared for him to wake up so suddenly.

"I don't believe that's what I asked you." He had managed to sound menacing despite the fact that he was loudly pulling air back into his lungs.

"My name is Angela." She kept her hands up. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel threatened. She had no clue who he was or what he was capable of. She wasn't taking any risks with this him- or any more risks than she had already taken.

"Why did you bring me here? Why did you help me?"

Angela dropped her defensive stance and her brow creased. "Don't you remember? He was going to kill you."

"But why did you help?"

"I wasn't prepared to watch someone die. Especially not at the hands of Gotham's 'Greatest Hero,'" she said matter-of-factly.

He was silenced by her honesty.

"Okay," She said as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I think it's my turn to ask a few questions. Which one of them are you?"

He was still a bit out of it and gave her a quizzical look, as if to say 'What are you talking about?'

"Which high profile criminal are you? I don't keep up with the news enough to know and I've never seen your face in the papers. I know you're one of the important ones, considering that fancy mask of yours and the damage you did to the Bat."

Realization of the situation finally hit him full force and Jonathan's eyes widened. "My things, where are they?" He tugged on his restraint and came to the shocked realization that the thing restraining his arm was a fuzzy handcuff. He attempted to sit up but was promptly stopped by the pain that shot into his sides.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You've got a cracked rib and several lacerations that I had to stitch up, and you didn't answer my question," she said sternly.

He sat back and huffed. "You can call me Doctor Crane."

"Well that's not exactly the answer to the question I asked, but _Doctor Crane_ , I think we both know you're not going anywhere anytime soon with those injuries of yours," she said as she headed into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

He heard a few beeps and then what sounded like the low hum of a microwave. She stepped back into the kitchen doorway and raised a brow, waiting for his answer. "It's mac 'n' cheese leftovers. It should be soft enough for you to eat in your condition."

This was ridiculous, he thought. He should be continuing his research and plotting his revenge against the Batman. Instead he was practically being held hostage in some strange girl's tiny apartment and was about to be force fed. The only thing he could really think right now was how relieved he was to not be in Arkham.

"I don't want to be here. I have more important things to do right now, and this is degrading," He said gesturing to the fuzzy, black hand cuff around his wrist.

"I don't want you here either, but you can hardly move and I really don't want to be arrested for harboring a criminal, so calling the cops is out of the question. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are on the same page right now. And as far as the hand cuff is concerned, it's the best I could do for now. I was planning on buying zip ties tomorrow." She pursed her lips in thought, "Unless you can honestly tell me you're not a threat?" He stayed silent. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

The microwave beeped and she headed back into the kitchen. Despite his lack of answer she decided to serve the food into two bowls. She was about to grab a fork out of the drawer but thought better of it and gabbed a spoon for him. She poured each of them a glass of water and went back into the living room.

"Here," she reached out to pass him the food. He was very much aware of how much space she was leaving between them. She was being cautious, smart.

"That's quite the bedside manner you have there, Doctor. I guess you've never dealt with a patient who couldn't feed himself?" He raised his cuffed hand and waved it around a bit. "I can hardly feed myself with one hand, especially if I can't sit upright." If he couldn't continue his research back in his lab, the least he could do was perform a bit of research while he was stuck here.

He may have startled her for a moment, but she wasn't impressed by his deductions. He must have been observing everything in the room while she was in the kitchen. Her medical text books weren't very difficult to spot. "That's a nice trick there Sherlock, but I'm not a doctor. Not yet anyway," She said as she stepped over the coffee table and sat on the end closest to him. She was very obviously uncomfortable with being so close to him, but she wasn't about to let him starve to death either. He already looked like a skeleton. "Thirsty?" She held up the glass of water.

"Yes, of course."

She brought the glass up to his mouth and he didn't protest to drinking the whole thing at once. He was sure to keep eye contact with her the whole time, elevating her level of discomfort. She had to make an effort not to cringe under his icy stare. "Keep it up and I'll think twice about switching you to the zip ties," she said evenly. "Do you need more water?"

His reply was mockingly innocent, "I have no idea what you mean, and no. That should be enough for now."

He took a moment to take in her appearance. She had black hair that was brushed back and still wet from a recent shower, brown eyes, and a fairly average frame and height. Her most noticeable feature was her thin waist and the swell of her hips. She was wearing a black tank top and light blue cotton shorts that showed off the smooth tanned skin of her thighs; fairly immodest clothing to be wearing around a stranger and potentially dangerous criminal.

"Stop," she said sternly as she noticed his eyes roaming over her.

"Well, Angela, you didn't want me looking you in the eyes. I'm not quite sure what you want me to do here."

"Stop looking at me." She took a spoonful of the food and put it up to his mouth. He chewed slowly and cringed a bit at the slight pain of the food going down. "I'll get you something softer to eat tomorrow, this is literally all I have right now."

"I'm not making you uncomfortable am I?" He continued to look her intently in the eyes. The sarcasm in his voice wasn't lost on her.

"I would appreciate it if we didn't talk anymore until I learn a bit more about you."

"Oh, but you live in the Narrows. You should know exactly who I am." It had only been a few years since he had caused mass hysteria in the Narrows and he was fairly certain anyone living there at the time would remember the name Doctor Jonathan Crane.

She remained silent and put another spoonful up to his mouth. She knew better than to reveal anything else about herself. He was manipulative and intelligent, which made him very dangerous, even without knowing exactly who he was.

He finished his meal in silence, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. The moment he was done she rose and deposited his dish into the sink. Angela grabbed her food and drink and headed straight to her room. She didn't miss the icy stare that followed her every step and the cool voice that echoed in her mind as she closed her door.

"Goodnight, Angela."

She promptly locked the door behind her and let out a relieved breath as she sat on her bed. She ate her now cold leftovers as she thought about what the hell she had just gotten herself into.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Angela woke feeling groggy. She hadn't slept well the night before – she was constantly tossing and turning, and whenever she fell asleep she would be startled awake with a vision of piercing blue eyes.

She stretched and took a moment to grab her laptop from under her bed and settled back onto her sheets. She opened a search engine and typed in "Dr. Crane." The first article that came up was from the G.C.P.D. public website.

It read: "Dr. Jonathan Crane. Alias: Scarecrow. Very dangerous. If seen, call authorities immediately. Do not approach." Then at the bottom of the article, in red print was the word "Deceased."

The next web page she pulled up was an article from Gotham Times. The title read: "Scarecrow Defeated by Killer Croc!? Could The Master of Fear still be at large!?" Angela read through the article and saw that her guest was presumed dead on the day that the Arkham Riots had occurred. The same day her father had died.

The article then went on to confirm that Doctor Crane was "ripped to shreds by Waylon Jones – better known as Killer Croc," and that Gothamites could rest easy knowing that this menace had been put to rest.

Angela grimaced knowing that the article had been written to simply put the readers at ease; unless of course the man currently on her couch was actually an apparition. She highly doubted that though. Despite how skeletal he looked.

She went back to the search engine and typed in "Jonathan Crane, Narrows." The articles she found were horrifying. "Scarecrow Causes Mass Hysteria." "Scarecrow Terrorizes the Poor." And finally, "Scarecrow Brought to Justice by The Batman." She smiled a bit at that last one.

She scrolled to the bottom of the search engine and found an old web page from Gotham City Court of Law. Within the page there was a photo of a young man wearing a suit and tie. He had high cheek bones and icy blue eyes that shone behind his round glasses. Angela would have found him attractive if she didn't know exactly who he was. Beneath the photo was a caption that read: "Dr. Crane sends yet another suspected criminal to Arkham for psych evaluation."

Angela stood from her bed and brought her laptop into the living room. As she expected, Doctor Crane was already awake and fully aware. He watched Angela intently as she approached him with her laptop in hand. She stopped short of the coffee table and turned the screen toward him.

"Is that you?" She asked showing him the picture she had just found. It was not lost on him that it was an old article and they had used what was probably the only flattering picture of him in existence.

Jonathan smirked, "Oh, Angela, if you wanted to get to know me better all you had to do was ask. I would very much enjoy getting to know you better. We could talk about our lives and ambitions, our fears." There was a bittersweet tone to his voice.

He was trying to press her buttons. Well two could play that game. She turned the laptop back toward herself and looked at the photo for a moment. "What a shame," She said wistfully. Jonathan raised a questioning brow. "You used to be a pretty good looking guy, Doctor Crane." She shrugged and closed her laptop. "Guess that's all behind you, along with your medical career."

His smirk fell and he bristled a bit at her comment, fixing her with his cold gaze. Angela smiled back at him and headed into her room to change. When she came out of the room she headed to the kitchen and grabbed the pain medication that Doctor Crane more than likely needed by now. She put a few into her hand and filled a glass of water.

When she came back into the main room she held out the hand of pills and the glass of water, gesturing for him to take it. He looked at the pills she had passed him and frowned. "This medication will put me out for hours."

"That's kind of the idea. I need to make a run to the grocery store and - despite your condition - I really don't want to come home to any surprises."

Jonathan's frown deepened before he popped the pills into his mouth and reached out for the glass of water. Angela took the glass back to the kitchen and then went to go grab her coat. "I should only be out an hour or so. Try not to go anywhere."

He mumbled what was probably meant to be a snarky reply but the medication was already taking effect. Angela smiled and headed out of the building towards the grocery store.

While there, she picked up fresh bandages, food, and a package of zip ties. At first she had contemplated getting the neon, multi-colored pack – just to spite him – but then thought better of it and got a pack of all black zip ties.

As she roamed the store her mind wandered as it usually would. She had a difficult few days ahead of her. The most difficult part about all of this was finding out what to do with Doctor Crane when she started work again on Wednesday. She was glad she had a few days to think about it. She also had to be sure to manage her money right on this trip if she wanted to be able to eat next week.

After getting a few things at the grocery store she headed to a small clothing shop. She hated to waste money on a stranger, but she really didn't want him lying in those dirty rags on her couch. She bought a package of white cotton T-shirts, 3 pairs of sweat pants, a pack of socks, and a pack of boxer shorts. She prayed that everything would fit him alright.

After paying the cashier she looked into her wallet to count the remains of her cash. She had a grand total of fourteen dollars left. "So much for trying to manage my money." She grumbled as she put her wallet back into her pocket and headed back home.

As she was putting the groceries away she heard Doctor Crane groan as he woke up. She stepped out of the kitchen to let him know she had come back. "You woke up fast."

"I have to use the bathroom," he said, his voice still laced with sleep.

Angela smirked. "I can set up a catheter for you, Doctor Crane."

He was still a bit foggy from the medication but he had his wits enough to glare at her. "Take this thing off of me and help me to the bathroom," he grumbled as he gestured to the cuff attaching him to the coffee table.

Angela sighed and walked into her room to grab the key to the hand cuffs. "You're pretty bossy for someone who's still all drugged up," she said as she uncuffed him.

He flexed his now free arm and tried to stretch the soreness out of it. Jonathan was used to being tied into straight jackets and strapped to medical tables, but he could never get used to the soreness that followed after staying in one position for so long.

"Okay," Angela said, "I'm gonna help you try to sit up now."

Jonathan nodded his head as he prepared himself for the pain. Angela grabbed his shoulders as he made a slow attempt to sit up. He wanted to cry out at the pain it caused him but he tried to keep his resolve. Just as he was almost fully upright a pain shot out in his side and he hissed.

Angela took a look at his bandages as he was sitting up and told him that she would have to replace them soon. She then put his arm over her shoulder and instructed him to not put too much weight on his left foot; his ankle was swollen and she suspected he had sprained it when being thrown out the window.

She guided him to the bathroom and allowed him some privacy. He wouldn't have much trouble maneuvering around her tiny bathroom in his state, especially since he still had the pain medication in his system at the moment.

While he was finishing up, Angela went into her room and grabbed a spare pillow to set on the couch for him. Once he was finished, Angela paused him from trying to move back into the main room and handed him the bag of clothing she had just bought for him. "You'll need to bathe later but the least we can do now is get you into some clean clothes. Do you need my help?"

He was already humiliated by having to rely on her to get to the bathroom. The last thing Jonathan wanted to do right now was appear more weak and defenseless than he already had. He shook his head 'no' to her question and shut the bathroom door again.

He was glad she had such a tiny apartment, it made finding things to lean on for support much easier. As he changed he took some time to think about what he was going to do about his current situation. He was too weak to fight her at the moment. He could try threatening her but he doubted that was going to help him in any way.

Jonathan looked around the tiny bathroom as he was changing; trying to find anything he might be able to use to get out of the zip ties he would later be switched to, or maybe a weapon he might be able to use later. He found nothing and sighed as he opened the bathroom door again to let her know he was done.

Angela took note that the clothes had fit him just fine and smiled to herself. He had forgone the shirt and she assumed it was probably too painful for him to stretch his arms over his head to put it on at the moment. She walked over to him and let him put his arm over her shoulder.

He noted that she was the perfect height for him to lean on in his condition. She was shorter than him but not short enough to make him have to bend to meet her. She was probably about five or six inches shorter than him. "You're so short. You make a perfect crutch," he said with a smirk on his face.

She paused to glare at him and then continued walking. "Keep it up and you'll be sleeping in the bathtub." Once they reached the couch she told him, "Lay on your right side with the pillow under your underarm. It'll help you breathe better if you lay on the side with the broken rib."

He gave her a quizzical look but reluctantly did as he was told and found that she was right - though he wasn't exactly prepared to admit that. He sort of wished he had that information when previously dealing with fractured ribs after being tossed back into Arkham by the Bat.

Jonathan felt a wave of exhaustion pass over him as he settled back onto the couch. He had overexerted himself during his little trip and the pain medication he took earlier was keeping him in a lethargic state. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a delectable aroma of warm food wafting through the air that woke Jonathan from the deep sleep he had fallen into. He slowly raised his head and looked into the kitchen.

From his position he could see Angela's silhouette standing in front of the kitchen sink. The evening light had just begun fading into a sunset and was soon to leave Gotham in the darkness of night. Angela was washing dishes and lightly swaying her hips as she hummed a tune to herself. He was mesmerized and watching her intently as he tried to figure out what song she was humming, it sounded familiar.

Very suddenly a chill ran up her spine and the dish in her hand clattered into the sink as she froze in place and her spine went rigid. Jonathan watched her curiously as she slowly turned to face him. His eyes never left her as she narrowed her gaze at him.

"I told you to stop doing that." There was a strictness to her voice that somewhat thrilled him. It was a defensive mechanism and a very interesting reaction.

Jonathan raised a brow and mockingly asked, "What do you mean? I've only just woken up and you're already making assumptions of me doing something. I think you're being a bit paranoid, Angela." He said the last bit with a smile.

She frowned knowing that he constantly used her name to put her on edge. It was very obviously working. She liked her own name well enough, but to hear it constantly come out in that chilly voice of his made her want to lock herself in her room. And besides that, she had become more accustomed to being called Med School or Angie… or Sweet Cheeks. Hardly anyone used her given name anymore.

"Whatever," she huffed as she dried her hands on a dish rag and turned further into the kitchen to the point where he couldn't see her through the doorway. "I made soup," she called out.

When she came back into the room she had two bowls in her hands. She set them down on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen to grab their drinks. As she was walking into the room she grabbed something from a nearby shelf as well.

"Hold out your wrists," she told him.

He looked at her questioningly, but did as he was told. The thing she had grabbed from the shelf was a chain link made of zip ties. First she zipped one end to the coffee table leg closest to him. He realized that on the other end were two loops separated by 3 links. The loops were for his hands and the links would allow him to separate his hands enough to move around and lay comfortably, but not enough to give him a wide range of motion.

She put the loops around his wrists and zipped them tightly. He cringed as the plastic bit into his skin.

"Don't be such a baby. They're better than the hand cuffs, aren't they?"

Jonathan rubbed his wrists. "You're not some kind of sexual deviant are you? Because this is a pretty complex chain link you've made just to restrain me."

"No," she answered flatly as she pushed the table closer to him so he would have an easier time reaching his food.

"Your hand cuffs suggest otherwise."

She gave an exasperated sigh as she sat on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. "They're not mine. I have to bring them back to work on Wednesday."

"Oh really, and where's that?" He asked conversationally as he reached for his bowl. He took notice that she had been sure to only serve him broth but had cooked the soup with vegetables and chicken so that it would still have the flavor. All of the solid foods were in her own soup bowl.

Angela opened her mouth to answer his question but quickly caught herself. She had almost forgotten just who she was talking to. "I'm not going to answer that," was all she said before taking her first few spoonfuls of soup.

He smiled. What a clever girl. Breaking her mind would be a challenge and a privilege, unlike the dense minds that could be easily found at Arkham.

"As a matter of fact," she said, "I need you to answer a few questions."

His smile grew. "How about a game of quid pro quo?"

"I'm pretty sure you told me your name was Doctor Crane, not Doctor Lecter," she said in reference to Hannibal Lecter's game of 'I tell you things, you tell me things' that took place in Silence of the Lambs.

"Is that a yes then?"

Angela thought for a moment before nodding her head 'yes'. She only had a few questions for him anyway. He couldn't really learn too much about her throughout that, could he?

Jonathan waited in anticipation for her first question.

"How did you go insane?"

He rolled his eyes, highly unimpressed that this was the first thing she asked him. "I'm not insane, Angela. I'm simply devoted to my work. If other people see my research of finding a cure to fear as insane then I pity them. They're probably just afraid to live in a world without fear." He thought about what he said and then smirked. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"If you say so. Your turn."

He drank some of his broth before asking, "Why medical school?"

"My father," was her only reply.

Jonathan motioned for her to elaborate. She shook her head, "You never said I had to give an elaborate answer."

He tsked, "Come now, Angela. The game's no fun if you don't play fair."

She sighed in defeat. "My father used to say that the greatest joy in life was helping those in need."

It wasn't the most detailed answer, but he would take it. Besides, it didn't take much for him to see the hidden meaning. Her father was no longer alive. He nodded in acceptance of her answer and as a signal for her to ask the next question.

"Why fear?"

He grinned at her question. "Fear drives everything, Angela. Just imagine a world without fear. Nothing would hold you back. Everyone would be unafraid to do whatever they pleased without fearing the consequences. The world would be absolutely limit-"

She raised her hand for him to stop. He was getting a bit preachy and he was beginning to flail his arms around in grand gestures of excitement. She was afraid he was going to spill his soup all over her couch. "I get it already, just ask the next question."

Jonathan gave her a sour look for cutting him off but continued regardless. "Why follow your father's advice now? You seem like a smart girl, capable of finishing medical school early. Yet at your age you should be mid way through the residency stage. You must have had a different plan for your life."

She didn't know whether to be insulted by him saying she looked older than the average med student in residency, or to be flattered that he had called her smart. She also didn't miss the fact that he had embedded multiple questions for her to answer into that bit of conversation.

The main thing she noticed was that he wanted her to admit to him that her father was dead. She knew he was perceptive and that he had already worked out that bit of information from her last answer. The fact that he wanted her to say it out loud made a chill run down her spine, but she suppressed the shiver that usually accompanied it.

Jonathan watched intently as the cogs in her mind slowly turned. She was thinking out her answer and he wondered if she would give him what he wanted.

She looked at him with determination as she began to answer him. "I wanted to be an engineer. I was actually pretty good at it but-" her voice faltered for a bit and she cleared her throat to try and mask it, "but when my father died, I decided I wanted to pay homage to him by following the career path he had wanted me to take." She looked down into her soup bowl before looking back up to him, the determination back in her eyes. "Are you going to kill me despite the fact that I saved your life?"

Jonathan was a bit taken aback by the strait forward nature of her question. He took a moment to seriously contemplate his answer. "No," he said it with complete sincerity, though he left out the part where he may or may not mentally scar her. At least he wasn't really lying. "Consider it my way of paying you back. You save my life, I spare yours."

"Quid pro quo?"

"Precisely," he said with a quirk of his brow, "and speaking of, it's my turn. Was that the first time you spoke about your father's death?"

Angela's throat began to tighten up against her will. She didn't trust herself to talk so she opted for nodding her head as she pretended to be fascinated with the empty bottom of her soup bowl.

"I need and answer, Angela."

She cleared her throat but her voice was choked as she answered him. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear that."

"I said yes," came her intense reply. She was looking up at him now and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Jonathan felt his chest tighten, not out of pity or remorse, but out of excitement that she had such a strong reaction.

She quickly stood from her spot and began to collect her dishes and bring them to the kitchen. As she came back and went to reach for his bowl his arm shot out and he grasped her forearm tightly in his thin hand. She gasped and dropped the empty bowl. He pulled her close enough to speak to her in an intimate tone.

"Thank you, Angela. I thoroughly enjoyed our little session today."

Angela roughly pulled her arm out of his grasp and slammed her door as she quickly retreated to her bedroom.

Jonathan smiled to himself. If he weren't in so much pain he would have given himself a pat on the back. Instead, he laid back and hummed a familiar tune until he lulled himself into a very deep and satisfying sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My appologies for not updating more frequently. I'm still getting used to using this site.


	7. Chapter 7

Angela tossed and turned in her bed for hours before finally falling asleep. Her mind was racing with memories of a past that would never be returned to her. There was a creeping darkness that continued to press at the borders of her mind.

As she slept she pulled her blankets closer to herself and shivered. She turned in her bed once again as a discomfort settled over her and she got the unsettling feeling of being watched.

For a while, Angela laid there with her eyes closed tight, too afraid to open them to see what she might find in the darkness of her room. With a small amount of courage she opened her eyes and looked toward the foot of her bed. Standing there was the tall, thin shadow of a man with eyes as fierce and cold as ice.

Angela suddenly gasped and sat up in her bed to find that she had only been dreaming. She was breathing heavily as she stood up and hurried toward her light switch. She stood there for a moment to catch her breath before grabbing her towel and exiting her room.

As she grabbed the handle to the bathroom door she heard a chilling voice come from across the room. "Have a bad dream, Angela? Or was it the boogeyman that woke you?"

She didn't turn to face him. She refused to look into those eyes that had been haunting her. Instead, she rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her before running the hot water.

Angela stood under the steaming water as she wondered where she had gone wrong in her life. What did a person have to do to deserve all of this? She was going through inner turmoil as she thought of her job, her school, her financial dilemma, and now of the man haunting her dreams and her apartment.

She stood there thinking of it all for so long that the water had begun to run cold. So long, that she began to grow tired of hearing her own whining in her head. Then a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Count your blessings, kiddo."

Angela got out of the shower and wrapped her towel around herself. She couldn't believe that she was going to take the advice of an exotic dancer, but her inner Stephanie was right. She had to take things for what they were, and if life was going to hand her lemons, then you could be damn sure she would make lemonade.

She wiped the fog from the mirror and gave herself a reassuring look. She could take control of this situation. All she had to do was get through this semester of classes, get through working a few more shifts at My Alibi, and then she would be interning at Gotham City Hospital. She wasn't going to let Doctor Crane get to her either.

For a moment the determined look in her eyes faltered, and she knew that if she could see it then he would be able to see it too.

Angela's thoughts were cut short as she heard a wheezing cough come from the living room. She quickly dressed and went out into the main room to see what was going on.

Jonathan was having trouble breathing again. Angela hadn't given him any pain medication recently and the added pain of his bruised lungs and sore cuts were wearing on him. He heard the door to the bathroom swing open and Angela come rushing forward to check on him, but he was losing focus of his surroundings as he made feeble attempts to draw air back into his lungs. There was in intense pain coming from his right side, where his broken rib was. He could hardly breathe and was beginning to black out.

Angela was trying her best to assess the situation but she was going into a panic as she realized that he wasn't listening to her as she told him to try to relax and breathe. She noticed the dazed look in his eyes and realized what was happening right before he passed out.

"Shit, shit, shit," she mumbled as she pulled him onto the floor so he was lying on his back. He wasn't breathing anymore and she noticed that his chest was a bit lopsided. He had a collapsed lung and had been unable to fight through the pain as he tried to take in air.

Without any hesitation she began chest compressions. She pressed on his chest with practiced hands before tilting his head back and checking for any signs of breathing. There was nothing, so she began the procedure for mouth-to-mouth.

She lifted her head after giving two breaths and he still wasn't breathing. She repeated the cycle – 30 chest compressions and two breaths – and still, he wasn't breathing. Angela could hear her own pulse as her blood rushed and hoped she wouldn't have to deal with getting rid of a dead body.

On the third cycle he gave a sputtering cough before wheezing in a few breaths. It took him a moment to realize that he was on the floor now with Angela hunched over him. She rested her forehead lightly against his own with her hands on either side of his head as she gave a sigh of relief and laughed.

"Holy shit, I thought you were going to die. Don't do that ever again, please." She muttered. She was surprised at how panicked she had become at the thought of him dying. Sure he was a complete ass and she was creeped out by him at the best of times, but that didn't change the fact that he was a human being in her care and she couldn't just stand back and watch as he died.

"What happened?" he rasped, still a bit dazed.

Angela sat up and gave him some space. "Your lung collapsed, probably a result of your broken rib. You started coughing and couldn't catch your breath. You stopped breathing and passed out." He was about to speak again but she shushed him. "Don't talk right now. You need to rest. We can't move you back to the couch right now but I'll get you some pain killers and some blankets so you can be comfortable."

Angela rushed out of the room and grabbed a few things. When she came back Jonathan felt her gently put her hand under his head to lift it up and put a pillow under him. She gave him the pain medication and then put a large, warm blanket over him. The last thing he noted before falling asleep was the scent that lingered on the blanket and how it reminded him of her.

It was dawn now and Angela decided she would try to get in some study time before she would inevitably have to come back into the room to take care of him. She took a deep, calming breath before sitting down at her laptop, but the entire time she sat there all she could do was worry about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to just go ahead and upload all the chapters I already have published on FF net. Please excuse any typos as I'm just trying to get them uploaded and edit them later. Please, if you enjoy a chapter or have some constructive criticism, all I ask for is a quick comment. It really does mean the world to me.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, wake up."

"Hmm?"

"Doctor Crane, wake the hell up."

Jonathan felt a light tapping on his cheek as he very slowly awoke. Angela was leaning over him and he had a sense of déjà vu as he caught the scent of warm food in the air. His mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His vision was blurry and he noticed his glasses had been placed elsewhere.

"What-," he tried to clear his throat to get the words out but everything was dry. It felt like he had swallowed a desert in his sleep.

"Hold on a minute." Angela came back with a glass of water. It helped, but his throat still felt a bit sore.

"What happened?" He finally asked.

"You're lung collapsed and you passed out because you couldn't breathe. I had to give you CPR. I woke you up because you need to eat something. And I changed your bandages but you definitely need a shower."

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday, you've been out for pretty much a day and a half. I just finished cooking, so food and then shower, alright?"

He simply nodded his head, not really wanting to hurt his throat by talking. She helped him to sit up on the floor so his back was resting against the couch. There was pain in his chest while he sat up but it wasn't unbearable. He suspected he could attribute that to all the pain medication.

Angela brought over their food and handed him his glasses as she sat cross legged on the floor near him. They sat in silence for a while as they ate and the warm broth soothed his sore throat. Jonathan felt the fogginess of sleep lift and he began to remember just what exactly had happened to him. He remembered the sudden intense pain he felt in his chest and how he had begun coughing before he ran out of breath and passed out. He also recalled waking up soon after with Angela hunched over him in relief. She had saved his life. Again.

"Thank you," he spoke softly as he looked deep into the bottom of his soup bowl.

Angela snapped out of wherever her mind had been wandering and she looked up at him from her food. "Huh?"

"I said thank you." He finally looked up at her. "If I were in Arkham they wouldn't have realize what had happened until I was rotting in my cell."

Angela sat with her moth agape for a moment. She couldn't believe the sincerity on his face and in his voice as he said it. She finally collected her wits enough to answer him, "umm, don't- don't mention it." It was a bit more of a mutter than she wanted to admit, but hopefully he understood it.

She stood to bring their dishes into the kitchen and then stood in the doorway between the rooms as she looked at him, a pensive look on her face.

"What is it?"

She pursed her lips. "I'm just wondering how we're gonna go about this whole shower thing, while keeping your modesty, that is."

Jonathan shrugged. "It's not like there's much modesty at Arkham so that doesn't really concern me."

Angela felt her cheeks burn for a moment before she took a breath to calm her blush. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in learning more about you than I need to."

Jonathan openly chuckled at her innocent reaction to the thought of seeing him naked. "I can manage fine on my own, but I'll need help getting there and into the tub."

Angela nodded and came back with a pair of scissors. She cut the zip tie that was attaching him to the table but kept his wrists linked together. She trusted him a bit more now but she wasn't dumb enough to actually give him free range of her apartment. She helped him up and they made their way into the bathroom. Before she helped him into the tub she told him to wait by the door as she went to go get a few things.

When she came back she had a change of clothes, a towel, a toothbrush, and a disposable razor with her. "You're getting some pretty mean stubble there," she explained as she handed him the razor. She helped him remove his bandages and then helped him into the tub as she explained that she would be waiting right outside the door. Angela sat with her laptop as she tried to finish her last assignment for the night.

After a small struggle to get out of his clothes Jonathan stood under the water and enjoyed what was probably the warmest shower he had taken in years. He thoroughly washed his hair and was careful when washing around all his cuts. He brushed his teeth and shaved his face with the practiced precision of never having a mirror to use while in Arkham.

Once he was done washing up he took a moment under the running water to think of just what the hell was going on here. Angela had saved him twice now. The first time she had done it out of fear. She had no idea who he was, but from what she had told him, she was afraid to watch someone die. Had that been the same fear she had this time, or was there something more? Jonathan rested his head against the tiles as he recalled the relief in her voice when he started breathing again. He couldn't understand it.

About half an hour later, Angela heard the water shut off and she went to go put her laptop away. She stood by the door as she waited for him to signal that it was alright for her to come in. He had once again forgone his shirt, knowing that she would have to put new bandages on him, and also because the zip ties made it impossible. They made their way back to the couch and Angela reattached his restraints to the coffee table.

"Can you stay sitting up? I just need to reapply your bandages." Jonathan nodded his head and waited for her to return with bandages and ointment. Once she came back she knelt in front of him and checked the stitches on his chest, abdomen, and shoulder. "These should be healed up pretty soon. Then we can take the stitches out."

She put ointment on any of his wounds that needed it and bandaged the more serious wounds. Not for the first time, Angela took notice of the old puncture scars on his arms, chest, and stomach; all of the scars forming crescents. She lightly ran her finger tips over one of the crescents on his shoulder. "Doctor Crane?"

"Hmm?" He had his eyes shut as her fingers traced slow patterns over the scars on his skin. Usually he would detest anyone touching him, especially in this way, but he found that the touch of her cool fingers on his bruised skin soothed him.

"What are these scars from?" She continued to trace the pattern over his chest as she spoke softly. He seemed to be in a trance and she didn't want to wake him out of it. His usually keen senses seemed to have slowed and she was intrigued by the effect she was having on him.

Angela leaned closer as she heard him murmur softly.

"Swimming in the river

Was a juicy little frog,

Who thought the weeping crocodile

Was just a fallen log"

Angela watched him as his breathing slowed and he seemed to be somewhere else all together. She was surprised by his rhyme, but she understood the meaning. She continued to trace the pattern onto his arm, her other hand resting on his knee. "Your run in with Croc. How did you manage to get out of that one? According to the G.C.P.D. website, they still don't know you're alive."

He didn't answer. Angela slowed her movements until they came to a stop altogether. He was so still, she almost thought he was asleep. She spoke to him quietly so she wouldn't startle him. "Doctor Crane?" He gave no answer and she attempted to call his name again with the same results. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Jonathan?"

Slowly, his eyes began to open.

"Where were you just now?"

"I'm – not sure." He was still a bit dazed and she was entirely too close – one hand resting on his knee and the other on his arm as she knelt in front of him. He was overwhelmed and it was as if he was in a fog and all he could see was her warm, concerned gaze. Without realizing his own intentions he gently lifted her chin with his finger tips and leaned forward to capture her lips with his own.

Jonathan felt Angela freeze in place as their lips met. Finally, she moved against him for the briefest of moments. And then, she was gone. Jonathan hardly had time to notice the loss of her warmth before he heard her bedroom door slam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I have zero medical training. So if you ever find yourself in any of these situations, please don't use this fic as an example of what to do. I just looked stuff up on google.


	9. Chapter 9

Jonathan immediately wanted to kick himself once he realized what he had done. It wasn't that he regretted upsetting her. No, what he regretted was his loss of self control and the fact that he couldn't understand why he had done such a thing in the first place. He needed to understand what it was that made him take such an action, and he needed to know why he had been so affected by just a simple touch.

She had barley touched him as she ran her cool fingertips over his skin and he had practically been floating on air. He felt like he had been hypnotized and he wanted to know exactly what was going on here. Why had she brought him here in the first place?

"Angela?" He called trying to catch her attention through the thin walls of her apartment. There was no reply. "Angela!" Still no reply.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his side and the soreness that was still in his ankle he moved as close to her door as his restraints would allow him – which only got him to the furthest wall of the living room.

He knocked firmly on the wall and called out once more, "Angela, I know you can hear me. Come out." He pressed his ear against the wall and heard nothing. Great. With the way she stormed out he expected her to have become overly emotional. He was somewhat disappointed he didn't hear her sobbing or throwing things around in outrage.

She wasn't upset, and she wasn't angry – because if she were in either of those states then he would have made an attempt to threaten her to come out by now. But threatening her wasn't gong to work in this situation. She had gone catatonic and any of his attempts were not going to reach her.

"Damn it," he muttered as he slid down and sat back against the wall. If she had gone catatonic then she was taking this much worse than he expected.

Angela sat in her room, her back against her bedroom door and her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her legs. She stared blankly at the foot of her bed. Somewhere far off she heard someone calling her name, but she just couldn't find it in herself to respond. She was frozen in place as her mind buzzed from thoughts of nothing at all to far too many thoughts at once.

She plucked one of the thoughts from her stream of consciousness as if pulling a raffle ticket from a bowl. The one she had chosen to deal with first would have probably said something like 'What the hell was that!?' She then decided that wasn't the thought she wanted to deal with first. She tried to reach for a more tangible question and got 'Why on earth did you almost kiss him back?' She didn't want to deal with that one either.

Angela's thoughts flurried around her, asking her questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Finally, she decided to return to staring at the foot of her bed as she avoided trying to feel or think anything. She leaned her head back against the door and heard a soft humming.

The rush of thought and void started to clear away and what she first heard as humming was now a soft singing, she couldn't make out the words at first so she turned and pressed her ear against the door. She knew this song. She had been humming it the other day as she washed dishes.

"We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea,

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea,

We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea,

On the last day of September"

Angela couldn't help but sing the last line of the verse aloud. She heard Jonathan stop singing as he heard her join in. She knew she had been caught. He had been trying to catch her attention for nearly half an hour now and had finally managed to reach her.

Angela stood up from her bedroom floor and walked out into the living room. Jonathan was still sitting on the floor with his head tilted back to rest against the wall behind him. He gave her a questioning glace before staring back up at the ceiling.

Angela hesitated before speaking. "My father would sing it sometimes when he came home from work." Jonathan saw her wrap her arms around herself – a coping mechanism, to help comfort herself as she spoke about her father. She took a breath before continuing, "There were actually a few songs he sang, always nursery rhymes. Whenever I asked him about it he would laugh and say that one of the patients would sing them all the time and they would get stuck in his head."

"Who was your father?" Jonathan didn't turn to look at her as he continued the conversation. He knew that looking at her would put her off and he didn't want to do that as she was finally opening up to him.

Angela sighed as she took a seat next to him and joined him in looking up at the ceiling. "His name was Robert Stirling. He was an orderly at Arkham and –"she felt her throat begin to tighten up but she fought through it, "He was working closely with Doctor Young on the Titan project before the Arkham riots. Batman was there, but the Joker got to him first." She bit her lip as she heard her own voice waver. She couldn't trust herself to keep talking.

Jonathan sighed as he looked down at his hands; his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "I knew him. He would sometimes supervise recreational time or I would see him passing in the halls talking to Doctor Young. Your father was a decent man, Angela. He genuinely believed in the asylum and its ability to heal the insane minds within. That's why he worked with Doctor Young. He believed there was a cure for those sick people. They thought that Titan would make the patients stronger and able to endure more strenuous therapy."

Angela wasn't quite sure how to handle that information, but she nodded her head as thanks for speaking kindly about her father. "Was it you that used to sing in your cell?"

She wasn't going to like the answer but he continued regardless. "I used to have two cell neighbors, one with melophobia and the other with a rare case of metrophobia." Angela looked confused and he gave an exasperated sigh as if she should know these things. "The fear of music and the fear of poems or rhymes, both very irrational. I wanted to try and help them cope with their fears so I took it upon myself to snatch a nursery rhyme book from one of the many libraries in the Arkham mansion. I ran through a trial by singing the rhymes in my cell for a few weeks. They both died of exhaustion on the same day, unable to sleep due to their debilitating fears. It was quite an interesting study on Folie à deux*., and after that the habit just stuck."

Angela sat in horrified silence. All those fond memories of her father coming home and singing happy tunes were a bit spoiled now. She felt sick and decided she needed to change the topic immediately. "Why did you kiss me?" She blurted out. That just made her feel worse, but she needed to know.

"Why were you touching me like that?"

"I don't know. I was just curious about your scars."

"Well, you know what they say about curiosity."

"I'm pretty sure curiosity didn't kiss the cat." Angela mumbled.

"You're right. It killed the cat," he was speaking in that cold detached tone of his before an ominous smile spread across his face. "Maybe I should correct my mistake."

Angela gave a nervous chuckle, "This is getting a bit off topic. You never answered my question about Croc. How did you get away?

"I thought you wanted to talk about-"

"Not just yet," she cut him off. "Just – I don't want to talk about it yet. Just answer the question for now."

The corner of his mouth twitched in irritation, he really hated it when she cut him off like that, but he would humor her for now. "If that helps you cope, then fine, I'll tell you. I was in the sewers under the Asylum. Then, the bat showed up, like he always does. Just as I was about to get away that hideous creature sprang from the water and dragged me down. I shot him up with fear toxin, but as expected, it didn't have much effect on him. Once he realized I was going to put up a fight I guess he decided he didn't have time for me. I was just an appetizer; the Bat was the main course." He of course left out his reason for being in the sewers in the first place – to drop a fairly large batch of fear toxin into the Gotham water supply. "After he mauled me a few times he let me go and in my critical condition I crawled up onto an empty canister of fear toxin and floated out into the Gotham Harbor."

"If Batman saw you the other day then why does it still say deceased on the G.C.P.D. website?"

Jonathan rubbed the bridge of his nose, his patience was wearing thin. "I don't know. There's talk amongst the rogues. They say the Bat hasn't been quite himself lately, ever since the incident with Joker. I'm sure the G.C.P.D. is catching onto it. He probably didn't tell them because he doesn't want them to know he's off his game. Besides, I wasn't causing much of a disturbance."

"What were you doing?"

"Enough. I've played along. Now, you wanted to talk so let's talk."

"Aren't we talking now?" Jonathan glanced down at her to give her an irritated look. She huffed and rolled her eyes in response. "Listen, Doctor Crane, I don't know what you want me to say about all of this. You spent ages locked up in Arkham and you've been hiding away for somewhere close to two years now. So you kissed me. Big deal. I'm probably the closest you've come to a woman in a long time. So, you know, it was nothing personal and we can forget about the whole thing. Okay, glad we cleared that up. See ya."

Angela got up to leave after her rambling mess of a speech but quickly found herself back on the ground as Jonathan snatched her wrist and roughly pulled her back to sit by him. She landed with a small, "Oof." Admittedly, he probably grabbed her more roughly than was necessary, but he kept a hold on her wrist in case she decided to make a run for it again.

"I want you to explain everything that's lead up to this. I know you're hiding something from me."

"What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who kissed me, I didn't do anything. And let go of me!" Angela was struggling to pull her wrist from his grip but he was surprisingly strong for a guy who had recently almost died.

Jonathan's voice was unsettlingly cold as he tightened his grip on her and she winced. "Tell me why you helped me that day in the alley, and why you saved me again the other day."

"Are you trying to ask me if I had some kind of ulterior motive for doing all of that? Do you think I'm working for someone to try to get close to you, or some ridiculously lame conspiracy like that? I'm not. Honestly, I don't know why I did any of it. It was just action and reaction."

Jonathan spoke to her with a discomforting calmness, "Please don't make the mistake of thinking I'm a fool."

"I don't have any reason to lie to you."

"You don't have any reason not to," he countered.

They sat there for a moment, Jonathan searching her eyes for the answers he was looking for. She looked back at him with unrelenting authenticity. She was telling him the truth and she knew he understood that, but still his hold on her wrist would not yield.

He allowed a small glint of twisted amusement to pass over his features as he loomed over her. She attempted to pull her wrist from him but it was once again a failure. There was a brief moment of panic that rose up in her as she realized what was happening. He wasn't going to let her go. Jonathan took a small amount of satisfaction in the fact that he could feel her pulse racing beneath his finger tips.

"Let me go. I'm tired and I have work tomorrow. I just want to go to sleep."

"Tell me, Angela, where is it exactly that you work?"

"None of your damn busin- ah!" Angela yelped as he tightened his grip on her wrist a bit more. He wouldn't tolerate her being rude. He caught her other wrist with his free hand as she reached out to try and pry his hand off her, but he didn't anticipate her next action.

Angela quickly twisted in his hold and kicked out her leg, hitting him squarely in the stomach. He instantly released his hold on her and curled over on his side in pain. She shot up from her spot on the ground and got far enough that he couldn't reach her. She held her sore wrist to her chest and noticed the harsh stain of bruising left on her skin in the shape of his thin fingers.

She didn't wait for him to recover as she spoke, "I want you out of here before I leave tomorrow. If you're strong enough to attack me then you're strong enough to walk and find somewhere else to stay."

She rushed into her room, slamming and locking the door. She was being foolish, letting him stay a minute longer, but she was too afraid to face him right now. She thought of moving her dresser in front of her bedroom door to be sure she would be safe throughout the night as she slept, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how scared she was. She went to bed feeling like a prisoner in her own home, all because she had been a fool that day, to think she could help someone. She should have left him to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Folie à deux is a French psychiatric term meaning a madness shared by two, also known as shared psychosis.
> 
> For anyone who may have missed it, Robert Stirling (Angela's father) is an actual character from 'Arkham Asylum' and not a creation of my own.


	10. Chapter 10

Angela awoke in the late afternoon. She hadn't fallen asleep until five in the morning, due to the fearful thoughts that bombarded her in the night. It didn't help that she'd had the dream again as well, but this time the figure had come much closer. Whoever, or whatever, was approaching her in her dreams was hell bent on not letting her get a good nights sleep.

She sat in her bed for a few minutes, contemplating what her plan of action was going to be. Face her fears and check to see if Doctor Crane was still in her apartment, or let it be for a while?

She decided she would hold off on going into the living room a while longer. She pulled her laptop from under her bed and decided to do a bit of studying until she heard her stomach grumble loudly. She sighed and buried her face in her hands. She needed to eat. The problem was that in order to get to the kitchen she had to cross through the living room.

She huffed and rose from her spot on the bed. Angela took a moment before opening the door to try and steady her breath and prepare herself for whatever surprise may be waiting for her behind that door. She slowly opened the door and peeked around the corner into the living room. To her surprise Jonathan was still in the apartment, and even more surprising, he was fast asleep on the couch.

Angela made her way quietly into the kitchen and tried to be as silent as possible as she made herself a sandwich. As she left the kitchen she almost dropped her food when she saw Jonathan sitting upright on the couch.

"You're not as quiet as you seem to think you are."

Angela chose to take a bite of her sandwich and ignore him as she headed back to her room.

"You didn't make me anything?" he called to her as she was about to close her door.

She stopped midway, turned, and walked back out into the living room. "Are you kidding me? Do you seriously think I would make you something to eat after what happened last night? And last I checked, I told you to get the hell out of here."

"Actually, you said you wanted me out of here before you left for work. You're not leaving for work yet, are you? And besides," he held up his bound wrists, "I'm stuck here until you set me free." He said the last bit with a look of feigned innocence.

She bit her lip in frustration. "I'm not an idiot, Doctor Crane. I know you can easily get out of those, they were just a precaution. You could have been long gone by now, so why are you still here?"

"I thought it might be rude to leave unannounced." She couldn't tell if it was a lie or if he legitimately meant it.

Angela stood there for a moment, trying to search his eyes for the truth, but as usual, he gave away nothing. She marveled at how robotic and calculated his actions could be at times; every movement and word chosen solely for the purpose of keeping her on her toes. He gave a boyish smile when he noticed her trying to figure him out. She frowned in response.

Angela grabbed the remote to her tiny living room TV and tossed it to him. "Keep yourself occupied for now and I'll let you out as I'm leaving. I've got a paper to write today so don't bother me."

"I think it might be better if you gave me a book," he said as he set the remote down on the coffee table.

Angela let out a frustrated breath and walked over to her small bookshelf. "Which one?"

"One from the bottom shelf. Doesn't matter which."

Angela arched a brow, "One of my text books, seriously?"

He simply nodded and she picked one at random and set it on the coffee table. Without another word she retreated back into her room to finish her sandwich and start her paper. She spent hours flipping between her notes and switching between internet tabs trying to think of the best way to go about the topic of her research paper. By the time she had completed and sent it in she checked the time to see that it was nearly seven-o-clock.

"Crap," She mumbled as she slapped her laptop closed and scrambled off her bed. She grabbed her work clothes before running past Jonathan in the living room and into the bathroom.

Jonathan had been completely immersed in the medical textbook before he heard Angela's scrambling movements as she exited her room. As she was passing through the living room he took note of the clothes she was carrying in her arms. Slung over her arm was what looked to be a pair of black jeans, a leotard, and a pair of bunched up tights. As she shut the door he tilted his head in thought; he was still curious about where she worked.

Once Angela reemerged from the bathroom, she was showered, fully dressed, and was even wearing a bit of makeup. "Alright, let's go, I'm running late." She tossed him one of the t-shirts she had bought for him and walked over to cut open the zip ties that were restraining him. She paused for a moment before snipping through the plastic ties and looked up to search his eyes.

"I won't hurt you, Angela." He sounded sincere enough, but she wasn't entirely convinced.

"It's a bit late for me to take your word on that, Doctor Crane," She retorted as she held up her wrist to show the bracelet of purple bruises she wore.

"I suppose you're right," he chuckled, "but at least I've already promised not to kill you. It's the best I've offered anyone before, so count yourself lucky"

She shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe she was about to do this, but she cut the zip ties restraining his wrists none the less. All she really wanted was to be rid of him once and for all. She offered her hand to help him up off the couch but instead of grabbing her hand he grabbed her bruised wrist to help himself up. She winced, but as she looked down she noticed the thin line of bruising around his wrists that the zip ties had left.

Jonathan chuckled as he released her. "Charming," He said.

"What is?"

"They're like friendship bracelets," he said as he held his bruised wrist close to hers.

"I'm not your friend."

"Oh, now you've gone and bruised my ego as well."

Angela shook her head and walked over to her coat rack as Jonathan slipped the t-shirt she gave him over his head. He noticed her slip on her work vest and saw that it had a name tag on it. He saw a small logo on the tag but was unable to read it before she slipped her coat on over her vest and buttoned up.

"Let's get out of here," She murmured as she stepped into her high heels.

Angela had opened the door no more than a few inches before the knob slipped from her grip and the door slammed shut. She looked over her shoulder to see the thin arm connected to the spidery hand that had pushed the door out of her grip. Her reflexes were quick as she reached into her coat pocket for her taser, but Jonathan was much quicker.

As she moved to press the taser into his side he grabbed her wrist and slammed it into the door above her head. There was the sharp sound of electric current as her thumb was still on the button that triggered the weapon. He wrestled the weapon from her grip and dropped it into the back pocket of his sweatpants. She attempted to fend him off with her free hand but he was quick to bring it up against the door to join the other. He held both her wrists in place with just one of his slender hands.

Angela shook with fear as she looked up into Doctor Crane's eyes. His pupils were blown wide, and his usually icy blue eyes had gone a stormy gray. Though his eyes indicated a sense of adrenaline or excitement, his face remained calm as ever. He reached down and deftly began to undo the buttons of her coat with one hand. She wanted to scream and fight out of his grip, but those eyes had shocked her into silence.

"Relax, Angela. I'm just taking a look at your name tag." He noticed she was still tense and he could feel her pulse racing under his hold, but she looked considerably less frightened once she realized that his plans were considerably less nefarious from what she initially thought he might do.

He pushed her coat aside and took a closer look at the small name tag on her vest. Angela watched him closely; afraid to make a sound as he narrowed his gaze on her tag.

Jonathan looked to the small pink logo that read 'My Alibi'. "That's what I thought it said," he murmured. As he looked back to her he realized she was beginning to regain her composure.

"What the fu-"

He clamped his free hand over her mouth and gave a sardonic smile. "It's my turn to interrupt. If you have something to say, keep it low. No screaming. Understand?"

She mumbled something under his hand and, though it was near incomprehensible, he still understood what she said. "No, you're not going to be late to work," he replied. "You're not going into work today, because after today there won't be any work for you to go to."

There was another mumble from under his hand. He was enjoying the fire visibly lighting behind her eyes as she became increasingly infuriated by his actions to keep her quiet. His smile grew as he asked, "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite understand you that time."

Angela's brow scrunched as she glared at him and her face reddened.

"I'll answer your questions in a moment, Angela. But I want you to go sit on the couch and don't scream when I move my hand away. I trust you know what will happen if you try anything?"

Angela took a moment to think of what she could possibly do to keep herself from becoming prisoner in her own home. She didn't know what would happen if she didn't participate in his plans, and she didn't want to find out. She knew he was much stronger than her, even though he should still be healing from his injuries. He was far more skilled at fighting and defending himself and though she hated to admit it, he was smarter than her as well. Begrudgingly, Angela nodded her head in agreement to his plan.

"Good," he said as he leveled his gaze at her before releasing the hold on her wrists and over her mouth. He grabbed her by the elbow and pushed her towards the couch. She sat down as Jonathan grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and happily plopped down on the couch next to her.

"Why won't you let me go?"

He flipped through the channels until he landed on Gotham City News. He stretched his lanky limbs to get comfortable on the couch before turning to her; seemingly happy to answer her question. "Because an associate of mine has just delivered a lovely supply of top hats to the show girls at My Alibi," he said with a wicked smile, "and you and I are going to sit here and enjoy the show."


	11. Chapter 11

"How did you know this was going to happen?"

"Because I orchestrated it months ago. It's just a funny little coincidence that you happened to work at the place I wanted to target."

"I don't find it that funny." Angela stared wide eyed at the television. The camera panned past a large group of police officers standing behind their patrol vehicles and pointing their weapons towards the front entrance of My Alibi. The image on the screen finally came to rest on a woman holding a microphone and standing before police lines.

"Good evening Gotham. Summer Gleeson here with breaking news just outside of the well known gentleman's Club, My Alibi. No more than an hour ago the G.C.P.D. received a chilling emergency call from this location."

Angela leaned forward in her seat as the image on the screen switched from the red headed reporter to a 911 distress call. White subtitles appeared over a photo of a sound recorder.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I'm at My Alibi. There- There's something wrong with the girls. They've gone insane, every one of them. Please, please send help."

"Sir, please just stay calm. We're sending officers to your location. Are you safe?"

"I think so. I'm hiding in one of the storage closets. The girls, they were shooting up the place, attacking the customers. They've never done anything like this, I don't understand."

"Just stay quiet, sir. The officers will be there any minute now."

"I- I think I hear something."

Angela raised her hand to cover her mouth in abject horror. She recognized that voice. It was the bartender, Don. His voice was trembling; she had never thought anything was capable of frightening him that much. There was the sound of shuffling and then a soft knocking could be heard over the recording.

"Hellooo? March Hare, who are you talking to? Is Alice in there with you?" There was a third voice in the recording. Don stayed quiet as the closet door creaked open.

"Ah there you are, March Hare. I see Alice isn't in here, but what's this?"

"No. No please, don't-"

There was a sickening crack and suddenly Don was quiet. Angela began to tear up, fearful of what might have happened to her co-worker. Jonathan sat close to her, his arm over the back of the couch. He looked relaxed as ever, delighted, even. She knew he was watching her closely, gauging her reaction.

The recording continued and there was a low rustling before the third voice became clearer on the line.

"Hello, is this Alice?"

"Uh, no. Sir, just tell us what you want. No one has to get hurt."

"Oh, I just want Alice! But in the meantime, you might want to send the Bat. He's going to be late for tea!"

There was a sound of the phone clattering to the ground and the man could be heard giggling and singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat' before the call ended. The screen returned to a very disturbed looking Summer Gleeson standing by a uniformed officer. "Now I'm here with Officer Williams in the hopes that he might be able to provide some insight on the situation. Officer, who do you think is behind this?"

"We think this is the act of super criminal Jervis Tetch, better known as the Mad Hatter. We suspect he's got close to thirty hostages in there so this is a very delicate situation we're dealing with."

"What do you plan to do to stop him?"

"Ah, well, we saw Batman go in there just a few minutes ago, so hopefully things are going to clear up soon."

"Thank you, Officer," said Summer, looking unimpressed. "Well, Gotham, you heard it here, live. More on this as the event unfolds." The broadcast then cut to a commercial break.

Angela was trembling in her seat and she felt dizzy. "I have to- I can't watch this," she said as she stood from her spot on the couch and began to move toward her room.

"Oh no you don't," Jonathan said as he pulled her back to the couch. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "You're not going anywhere, dear. I want you to watch this. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"That's rich, coming from you."

Jonathan chuckled and brought his face close to her ear to whisper intimately to her. "Well if you're afraid, Angela, I can always help you to face that fear," His eyes brightened at the thought and it looked as if an idea had just struck him. "How about a bit of therapy? You tell me your greatest fears, and I can help you to overcome them."

"I don't want to do this. You don't have to do this," She said as she drew back and turned away, trying to cause some distance between them.

He grabbed her chin with delicate fingers and pulled her back to face him; their faces just inches apart. "I'm only trying to help you, Angela," He murmured,"I want to enlighten you, so you can see the world through my eyes. Unafraid. You won't have a job once this is over; the Mad Hatter will make sure of that. Work for me and I can teach you how to master your fear." He couldn't resist himself as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

Angela's breath caught in her throat as he brushed her hair back with his thin fingers and caressed the side of her face. His eyelids fluttered shut and she thought back to the night before and how he had entered that trance-like state from just a simple touch. Her eyes flicked to his back pocket as she remembered he held her taser there. If only she could distract him long enough to get to it…

She slowly reached up to caress the side of his face and was slightly surprised when he actually leaned into her touch. He leaned forward to burry his face in her neck and she shivered as his breath danced over her skin. She steadied her breathing and was sure to keep contact in order to keep him distracted.

"Doctor Crane?" she whispered as she gently ran her fingers over his arm.

"Doctor Crane isn't here right now, but if you'd like to make an appointment…" he said, his lips gently brushing her neck as he spoke. His breathing had slowed, just as it did when she traced his scars.

Angela cautiously leaned forward, feeling that now was her chance. Just as her fingertips brushed the taser sticking out from his pocket she felt him smile into her neck. Her blood ran cold.

"Nice try, clever girl, but you'll have to do better than that to distract me." He leaned away from her with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm not as easily manipulated as you think. Now pay attention," he said gesturing to the news broadcast that had just returned from commercial break, "It's about to get very interesting."

On the screen, Summer Gleeson was standing before police lines. "We're back here outside of My Alibi and as far as we know super criminal, Mad Hatter, has taken several showgirls and patrons of the club hostage. According the G.C.P.D., Batman is inside the club right now in an attempt to-"As Summer was reporting people began to run out through the entrance of the club. Some rushed out and made clear attempts to avoid the officers while others ran screaming in terror towards them for safety.

"I knew he would save them," Angela smiled.

"Like he saved your father?" Jonathan shot back spitefully. "Watch closely, the shows not over yet."

Angela's jaw clenched as she turned her attention back to the screen. Summer had pulled one of the escaped hostages to the side and Angela realized that it was Stephanie. Her usually perfect hair was mused and her mascara had gone runny.

"Miss," said the reporter, "Could you please tell us just what exactly is going on inside the club?"

"Oh it was horrible," cried Stephanie. "We were getting ready for our big show when suddenly it was like we were being mind controlled. That man, the things he made us do…" she covered her mouth as she broke off into a horrified cry. Jonathan rolled his eyes at her dramatic display.

Summer patted her shoulder sympathetically but continued to question her. "What did he make you do? How did you escape?"

"It was the hats, they were controlling us. We went into a back closet where guns were hidden and we threatened the customers. I- I punched a guy! I would never do something like that. And then that man with the top hat came in and started calling us all Alice; said he wanted us to join him for tea. And that's when Batman came in," she said in a dreamy tone.

Jonathan noticed Angela watching the background closely to see who was coming out of the building. He took in how nervous she looked until two men exited the building together. One man looked to be a bouncer for the club and was helping the second man down the front steps of the club. The second man had a trickle of blood falling over his forehead. Paramedics quickly rushed towards the pair to help.

Angela visibly relaxed, nearly letting out a sigh of relief. Jonathan narrowed his gaze at the men and was sure to memorize the face of the man who had been wounded. He suspected that to be who she was so concerned about.

Summer Gleeson continued questioning the showgirl, "And what did Batman do?"

"I'm not sure. As soon as he came in the hats were deactivated and we made a run for-" Before Stephanie could finish talking a loud explosion was heard and two figures were expelled through the front entrance of the club. A large gust of fire and debris fallowed the pair as they were tossed out into the street. The fire trailed behind them and spilled out onto the street to fallow a path of gasoline that had gone unnoticed.

A dark form with scalloped wings landed gracefully on the pavement whilst the other tumbled and skidded to a halt. The camera zoomed into the figures that were backlit by the burning fire. Batman slowly rose from his spot on the pavement and approached the man who had tumbled onto the ground. The man previously wearing a large top hat, presumably the Mad Hatter, was rolling around and cackling as the fire spilled out onto the street. Thankfully, the police lines were further back than how far the fire had reached.

"What's this about Hatter?" Batman demanded as he hoisted the man up by his shirtfront.

"He's back!" he gasped and giggled. "He's back, he's back, he's back!"

"Who's back?" shouted Batman as he lifted the smaller man higher off the ground.

The Hatter paused in his laughter to stare seriously at the Bat, "The Master of Fear," He said, pointing to the low flames on the street.

The news broadcast changed camera angles to an arial view of the street to show the fire that had fallowed the trail of gasoline. The flames had blazed into a shape like a horrific face cut out of a jack-o-lantern.

On the couch Angela turned curiously to her captor. He looked delighted as he pointed towards the screen and excitedly told her, "That's my emblem."

As the broadcast switched back to the street view, Summer Gleeson could be seen quickly approaching Batman as he handed the Mad Hatter off to the police.

"Batman," she shouted trying to get his attention, "Batman, could you please tell us what this all means? Has the Scarecrow really come back from the dead?"

"No Comment," Was all he said as he walked past her; firing his grappling gun and being lifted away into the night sky.

The reporter gave an exasperated sigh as she turned back to the camera. "Well, Gotham, you saw it here first on GCN. Back to you in the studio, Tom."

The television clicked off before the camera switched over to the news room. Jonathan turned and smiled at Angela. "I think that went quite well, don't you?"

She glared back at him. "Did you seriously do all of this just to let Gotham know you were still alive? I lost my job because of this. A lot of people have lost their jobs because of this."

"No, of course that's not the only reason. This was just a distraction. It's like I said, the Bat's been off his game for quite some time now. No one's going to catch onto what's really happened until tomorrow morning, and by then it won't matter anymore."

"What do you mean? A distraction for what?"

"I think that's enough questions for tonight," He said as he stood from the couch, "but my offer still stands from earlier, Angela. Work for me, and I'll cure you of all that fear you've got built up. Work for me, and you won't have to worry about working at run down places like My Alibi." He turned to exit her apartment and she shot up from her spot on the couch to try and stop him.

Jonathan quickly turned and pulled the taser from his back pocket and pressed it firmly into her side. Angela felt her body convulse and her muscles spasm before she fell to the ground and quickly drifted from consciousness.


	12. Chapter 12

Jonathan looked down on Angela as her body fell to the floor and her muscles lightly spasmed as she blacked out from the electric shock. Once she stopped moving, he gathered her up into his arms - ignoring the insistent pain in his side - and brought her into her room to lay her gently on the bed. He placed her taser on the small dresser in her room.

As he was about to exit the room he backtracked and glared at the dresser. On the ground beneath it there was an indentation in the carpet, indicating that it had recently been moved. He slid the dresser forward and found a small backpack containing his cartridges of fear toxin and his mask.

He took one of the cartridges from the bag and eyed it before glancing in Angela's direction a few times. For a brief moment his mind raced with thoughts of what her fear might be like. He yearned to know the effects that the toxin might have on her. He highly doubted her greatest fear was something as menial as spiders, like so many other subjects tended to fear.

Injecting her with fear toxin was a tempting thought, but he didn't have time to stick around and work on a test subject. He had somewhere to be.

He located a piece of paper and a pen, and slipped the paper behind the dresser after writing a short note. He placed the toxin back in the bag, moved the dresser back into place and strolled out of her room.

Before leaving he went into her kitchen and swallowed a dose of pain medication. He knew he would need it once his adrenaline wore off. He was already beginning to feel the pain in his ribs.

He headed out of her apartment building and made his way down the Autumn chilled streets of Gotham.

000

Angela groaned as she woke and rolled onto her side. Though it was dark she realized she was on her bed. She was about to let herself drift off again, but a sudden chill ran through her as she felt another presence in her room. She shot up quickly, sitting up in her bed, and looked toward the edge of the room.

Standing in the shadows was a tall dark form. Her pulse raced as she remembered the figure in her dreams. She looked towards the figures face and expected to see ice blue, but was surprised to see opalescent eyes glaring back at her.

"How did you get in here?" she asked.

"Your security system isn't all that advanced." Batman said calmly. "Tell me where the Scarecrow is."

"What makes you think I would know anything about that?"

"I've gone through the records for My Alibi and apparently you were the only one who didn't go into work tonight, but you didn't call out either. If you couple that with the fact that the club closes around the same time I was attacked earlier in the week, then the pieces fall into place. You were the one who saved Crane. You must have gained his trust somehow, otherwise he would have just let you go into work and get attacked like the rest of those girls."

Angela chuckled. "Oh boy, they don't call you the Dark Knight Detective for nothing. But you're still wrong. Just because I saved him doesn't mean he trusts me."

"Then why are you still alive?"

"I- um…" She was at a loss for words for a moment. "Well, he said he wouldn't…"

"The Scarecrow's not well known for keeping his word. Either you gained his trust or there's something about you he found interesting. Both are dangerous situations to be in. Tell me what you know, Angela."

"Why? So you can finish what you started in that alley?" she said as she glared at him.

Batman returned the glare. "Are you defending him?"

She sighed dejectedly and rubbed her face in her hands. "No, I'm not defending him. I just don't think you're responsible enough to be doing the G.C.P.D.'s job for them. People have died because of you. People I cared about, and I don't care about Crane but I saw the way you were going at him in that alley. You could have killed him."

The Bat's shoulders slumped slightly, he almost looked ashamed. "I had a loss of control. It's not something I'm willing to let happen again. If you don't tell me what you know a lot of people could get hurt. Don't let his charm fool you, he's dangerous."

"I know he is," she paused for a moment, still unsure about trusting Batman despite his 'hero' status, "He said he had this planned for months, and that the events at My Alibi were just a distraction. I tried to ask him more about it but he didn't give me anymore information than that."

"Was there anything else he may have told you that could have been important?"

Angela thought for a moment about the proposition Doctor Crane had made to her, but before she could really process what she was doing she shook her head. "He didn't tell me anything else."

Batman stood silent for a moment, trying to decipher if she was telling the truth or not. His head tilted slightly to the side and his gaze narrowed before he spoke again. "If he attempts to contact you again, in any way, alert the G.C.P.D immediately."

Angela looked down and nodded her head. "Yeah, no prob-" When she looked back up he was gone. "That was kind of rude."

As soon as she felt she was completely alone, Angela scrambled out of her bed towards her dresser and pulled it forward. She reached behind it in the darkness and tried to grab for the backpack she had left there. When her hand didn't land on the rough fabric of the backpack she leaned forward hoping it had just slid further back.

Instead, her hand landed on a piece of paper. She grabbed it and stood to turn on her bedroom light. She sat on her bed as she began to unfold the note and read it.

"Dearest Angela,

I greatly appreciate you keeping my things safe for me. I apologize for having to leave on such short notice, but not to worry; I'll be seeing you again soon.

Sincerely,

J. Crane, M.D."

Angela sat motionless as she read the note over and over again.

I'll be seeing you again soon.

She suddenly reached forward to grab her taser off the dresser and clutched it to her chest; grateful that it was still in her possession. She scrambled back into bed and got under the covers. She left the light on as she held her taser close and attempted to fall back asleep.

000

Jonathan had been walking for nearly an hour when he came to a halt at a short, hidden doorway in a secluded alleyway. He pulled a brick out of the wall near the entrance to reveal a hidden pin-pad. He punched in a number and the small door slid open.

His breathing had become heavy and he clutched his side as he entered the doorway and walked down a narrow hall. At the end of the hall was a locked freight elevator with an intercom box on the wall next to it. He pressed the button on the intercom and waited.

"Riddle me this!" Shouted an excited voice that filtered through the speaker of the com system.

"Edward, I don't have time for this. I'm injured and I need to lie down. Just open the elevator," Jonathan growled.

The voice ignored him.

"Whoever makes it, tells it not.

Whoever takes it, knows it not.

Whoever knows it, wants it not.

What is it?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Jonathan said through ragged breaths. "It's counterfeit money."

"Bingo!" The voice shouted back as the elevator door slid open.

Jonathan stumbled in and sat on the ground to catch his breath as the elevator made its slow descent. Once the doors slid open again, a man in a pristine green suit stood waiting for him.

"Wow Jon, you look like you've been to hell and back. Need a hand?" the man offered his hand with a cocky grin.

That cocky grin belonged to none other than Edward Nigma, better known as the Riddler. He stood tall, despite the fact that he leaned stylishly on his cane - the top of it in the shape of a question mark. His dark, copper colored hair was combed back smoothly and his bright blue-green eyes shined intelligently behind his glasses. He grasped Jonathan's hand and pulled him up, gently helping him over to a computer chair.

The room they entered was dark, the only light emanating from several bright green computer screens.

"Where have you been?" the Riddler asked, looking down at him sternly. "Jervis and I were worried sick about you, and speaking of Jervis, they've got him locked up in Arkham now. You were supposed to be here, helping us plan the rest of the heist. You're lucky I was brilliant enough to tell him to go through with it, but now, we're left with this giant hole in our plan. We have no one to do the menial work all because you don't want to hire any henchmen!" He stood there and huffed after his rant, waiting for a response.

"Are you done clucking like a mother hen?" Jonathan asked and rolled his eyes. Edward crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a sour look. Jonathan mimicked the action. "So we've run into a minor setback," he drawled, "It's not a big deal. We'll find someone else. As a matter of fact I already have someone in mind."

"What are you talking about?" Edward asked.

"I met someone."

Edward eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean you've met someone? Who did you meet and how do we know he can be trusted?"

"She," Jonathan corrected.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Jonathan delighted in the baffled look his colleague gave him. "I met a woman. Her name is Angela. And she can help us."

"Listen Jon, just because you met some girl doesn't mean she's going to go along with whatever you tell her to-"

"She saved my life, Edward. Twice. I trust her. She may not trust me, but that will change soon."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

"Were you able to carry out the second part of the heist?"

Edward gave his friend an offended look. "Of course I did! Who else possesses a mind capable enough to have pulled something like that off? And those morons in the G.C.P.D. won't figure it out any time soon. Not even the Bat will know until tomorrow that more than half the accounts in the city bank have been emptied. We've got all the money we need and more."

"Perfect. We're going to need that spare cash. I've got a plan to get Angela on our side."

Edward huffed. "Does it have to involve our money?"

"Money talks, Eddie. We only need it to gain her trust, after that we'll be able to have her full dedication, I guarantee it."

"You seem pretty confident about this woman. When do I get to meet her?" Edward asked with a sly grin.

"As soon as she's at her lowest low, she'll come crawling to anyone with enough money to buy her a meal."


	13. Chapter 13

Angela walked down the chilled city streets of Gotham in an attempt to find any internet café that could offer her wifi without the purchase of a beverage. She clutched her coat and her laptop bag tightly. Even in daylight the narrows were a dangerous place, especially for a woman carrying anything of value.

It had been a few days since they had cut off her internet, 24 hours since she had had anything to eat and nearly a month since a menacing, blue eyed figure had walked out of her life. Soon she would be without power in her apartment and she would be left to freeze in the winter that was headed early for Gotham.

After nearly an hour of walking she came across a shop that had the sign 'Free wifi for students!' hanging in the window. She walked over to a table near an outlet and plugged in her laptop. The smell of pastries and coffee wafted through the air and she clutched her empty stomach. She could deal with eating hardly anything. Not eating anything at all while having to study near such delicious smells, well that was a bit more difficult.

Angela signed onto her school website and pulled her textbook out of her bag. She had so many assignments to make up after being unable to sign on for the past few days. She sent her professor an apology email for not signing in the past few days and explained her lack of internet connection. She then started working furiously on getting in her assignments.

After a few hours of work and taking down notes she searched the web for any nearby locations that were looking for people to hire. She sent in applications to as many locations as she could find. She had been tirelessly applying to location after location over the past few weeks and none of them had even attempted to contact her as of yet. It felt as though it was going to be impossible to find any work.

Once Angela sent in applications to multiple locations she closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes as she breathed in the bittersweet smell of coffee and pastries. As she kept her eyes closed she heard the chair on the other side of the table slide out and someone sit across from her.

"Hey there, Med School."

Angela's eyes shot open. "Don?"

Across from her sat Don, the bartender from her job at My Alibi. He was wearing a black polo T-shirt, khaki pants, and a Dark Brown apron. On the apron was a name tag that read 'Donald'.

"You Work here?" She asked.

"Yeah, just got the job two weeks ago, after getting out of the hospital." In that moment Angela realized the healing scar that ran along the side of his forehead and went into his hairline.

"I'm real sorry about that, Donnie."

"What are you sorry for?" He smiled and ran his fingers over his scar. "Not like you did it. Besides, it makes me look a little more bad ass," he said with a wink. His smile faded a bit. "Why weren't you there that night? I know you had a shift when everything went down. Not that I'm upset you weren't there. It was dangerous, obviously." He said pointing to his scar.

Angela sighed. "It's a long, complicated story that I don't really feel like discussing."

"Ahh, had a boyfriend over that didn't wanna let you leave?" he laughed.

Angela choked on her intake of breath and Don laughed at her dismay.

"Can I get you a coffee, Angie? You seem like you could use something to drink."

"A coffee sounds great," she answered almost too quickly.

Don went behind the counter and got to work. When he came back he had her drink and a blueberry muffin on a small white plate. She practically ate the muffin in a single bite and guzzled down her coffee. When she looked up at Don he seemed concerned.

"Are you doing alright, Med School? You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"I'm Alright," she lied, "I've just been having some trouble finding a job.

"I could put in a good word for you here, if you like. I mean I just started working but they love me here."

"That would be great," she beamed.

"It's no problem," he smiled. "I'm actually really surprised you haven't found work in the past month. You're a hard worker, and you've got a pretty face," he said, sliding in the last comment. "Places should be lining up to hire you."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's like every business in Gotham is trying to avoid me. I haven't gotten a single call or e-mail back." She looked down and contemplated the pros and cons of licking the crumbs off of her plate in front of Don. Eventually she decided against it.

"Do you want me to walk you home? It's getting pretty dark out," Don said, glancing out the shop window and then to her laptop, "my shift is about over and you've got some precious cargo with you."

Angela looked around the nearly empty shop and nodded her head, "If it's not too much trouble. I don't feel exactly safe in the streets these days."

Don got up from his seat and went into the back room of the coffee shop to clock out as Angela packed her laptop and books back into her bag. Once they were out on the street Angela felt the gust of chilled wind caress her cheeks and she buried her nose into the neck of her winter coat. They walked quietly for a few minutes as they let themselves adjust to the cold before Don broke the silence.

"So about that boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my – I mean - there is no boyfriend." Angela cursed herself for her small mistake.

"Ahh," Don smiled, "So there is a guy. What's his name?"

"It's not important."

"Geez, what did he do to not even deserve a name?"

Angela sighed as they sidestepped a man in a dark green parka, asking for change on the street. "It's complicated. Let's just say he has a lot to do with why I'm afraid to be on the streets lately."

"Well hey, if you need someone to keep you safe, I'm always here for ya, Med School."

Angela smiled and stared down at the sidewalk. "Thanks, Don, but like you said at the bar that one night, I can take care of myself."

They continued walking in silence for some time. Don leaned back, hands in his pockets as he walked. He looked deep in thought. "So, if this guy isn't a boyfriend, does that mean there is no boyfriend?"

Angela laughed. "You seem awfully interested in my love life, Donald."

Don gave a sour look at the use of his name. "I just mean I'd like to take you out some time. If it's not too much trouble."

Angela gave a shy smile as they arrived at the front door of her apartment building. "I wouldn't mind that at all, Don. And thank you for walking me home." She leaned forward and planted a light kiss on his cheek. When she leaned back he had a wide smile across his face.

"I'll see you around, Med School."

She smiled as she entered her building and walked up the stairs to her apartment. The smile fled when she opened the door and attempted to turn on the lights. Her power was off, and it was freezing cold inside her apartment. Without any power her electric space heater had been shut off. It was looking to be a long and painful night.

Angela locked the door behind her and shuffled around in the darkness to get ready for bed. She cursed herself for not being able to pay the power bill and not being able to have a decent meal in days. Mostly, she cursed the Scarecrow for putting her into this situation in the first place.

She grabbed her tazer and put it on her nightstand before changing and getting into bed. She wrapped herself into as many blankets as she could find. Though she was almost warm now, chills ran down her spine as memories of weeks before overwhelmed her. All through the night she tossed and turned as she dreamed of those pale blue eyes. In her dream she felt the sting of her tazer hitting her side. The shock woke her and she quickly sat up in bed.

Angela looked around the room to see that daylight was beginning to seep in over the horizon. She slowly got up from the bed, dreading the cold that was awaiting her on the hard wood floors. But when her feet hit the ground, it wasn't cold at all. As a matter of fact, she noticed the air in her apartment was slightly warmer than usual.

She quickly pulled the rest of the covers off of herself and approached the light switch in her bedroom. She glared questioningly up at the light as it turned on and off with the flipping of the switch.

"How the hell," she mumbled to herself and opened the door to go out into the living room. As she closed her bedroom door behind her she heard a lock snap into place. She turned on her heel to look back at the door and noticed a small metal mechanism at the top of the door. She reached up towards it before a voice cut off her action.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," the unfamiliar voice said from the living room. "Not unless you're ready to take 50 milliamps from the 9 volt I've installed into that lock."

Angela cautiously walked into her living room to see a stranger sitting on her couch. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?"

The man stood from the couch with a long, question mark shaped cane in hand. He took a swaggering step towards her in his bright green suit and she took a step back towards the wall. Angela reached into the pocket of her pajama pants and cursed under her breath.

"Forgot something in the room?" The man asked as he took another step towards her. "The name's Edward Nigma, better known to Gotham as the Riddler. I'm sure you've heard of me." He reached out to shake her hand and Angela flinched back in response. He chuckled at her timid nature. "Oh boy, he really put the scare in you didn't he?"

Angela glared at him with her back pressed to the wall. Her mind quickly put the pieces together. "You work for him, for the Scarecrow?"

A scowl crossed the Riddler's face, turning his features dark and intimidating. "I don't work for anyone. Our mutual friend is more of an associate of mine, but I have my own reasons for working with him. Not for him."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

The stranger grinned. "Now you're asking the right questions. Riddle me this! People need me, but always give me away. What am I?"

Angela stared dumbfounded at the man. This really wasn't the time for riddles.

"Don't look so stupid!" Edward shouted as he closed in on her. She pressed herself as close to the wall as she could to maintain some semblance of personal space. "He told me you were clever. Please don't disappoint me by being a moron like all the other idiots of Gotham."

"Money. This is about money?" Her eyes lit up at the mere thought of having some money in her pocket again, but thinking of working for these criminals made her feel guilty and disgusted.

"Very good, Angie," he said as he tapped her on the nose and backed away from her. He took a seat on the couch and patted the seat next to him. Angela kept her place across the living room, not wishing to be any closer to this dangerously insane man. He looked up and gave a handsome smile, "I'm not going to hurt you, Miss Sterling. I promise."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "How can you expect me to trust you?"

The man let out a thunderous laugh. "Who said anything about trust? There is no trust among criminals, and you should be quick to learn that. There's only this," he said as he reached into his breast pocket and threw an envelope onto her coffee table. The envelope was so overstuffed that it fell open as it hit the table and several bills slipped from the opening.

Angela stared mouth agape at the cash on the table and slowly stepped forward to reach for the envelope. Just as she was about to grab it her wrist was taken into his hand. He didn't grab her hard enough to hurt, but there was meaning behind the gesture.

"There are conditions of course."

"And what might those conditions be?" She asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"It's all written there, inside the envelope. But the most notable condition is that you now work solely for us. If you accept this money, there is no backing out. There is no getting away or turning down any of our demands. When Jonny says jump, you say…"

"How high," she muttered the answer.

"Very good. Maybe you are as clever as he says," he replied condescendingly and released her wrist. "Do you accept?"

Angela stared down at the money on the table. The past month of suffering ran through her mind. She thought of her aching stomach and of how cold her feet were as she fell asleep last night. She thought of the months to come and of how long she would be able to survive if she were left to live on the streets. Winter in Gotham was merciless, and the criminals on the streets were even more so. She couldn't imagine herself lasting long in those conditions.

"I need an answer, Angie," he said sternly.

Her mouth formed a grim line and her brow creased in frustration. She swallowed her pride and nodded. "I'll do it."

"Haha! That's what I like to hear. Jonathan will be ecstatic." The Riddler stood and grabbed a fairly large box from beneath the coffee table. It was wrapped in black paper with an orange ribbon wrapped around it.

"What's this?" She said as she took the box from him.

"You'll figure it out." He grinned and offered his hand to her once again. She hesitated for a moment before accepting and shaking his hand. He gave a devilish smile before turning toward the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Sterling. I have other business to attend to."

"Hey, wait! What about that lock on my door?" Angela demanded as he was exiting her apartment.

"Already taken care of!" He shouted back haphazardly over his shoulder as he let the door slam behind him.

Angela paced back towards her bedroom to see that the mechanism over her door was now gone. She shook her head in confusion and went to go sit on her couch.

She grabbed the stuffed envelope off of her coffee table and pulled a letter from between the bills. She unfolded it and began to read.

Dearest Angela,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have a favor to ask of you and - as I'm sure Edward has already explained the guidelines of our negotiation - you'll find it hard to refuse. There's a gala taking place in Metropolis tomorrow evening. I would like for you to accompany me. There are very important people attending and I would like to have you on my arm to charm these guests into assisting me with some of my research. I will be waiting in front of your building at 6pm sharp.

Yours truly,

Dr. Jonathan Crane, MD

Ps. I don't like to be kept waiting.

Next to Jonathan's signature was a wax seal in the shape of a tormented jack-o-lantern. Angela threw the note back down on the table and rubbed her hand over her face. Even in writing, he seemed as arrogant as the day she met him. She grabbed the box on the table and set it on her lap. Attached to the ribbon was a small note.

I hope it's to your liking

She pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. The first thing she noticed was the silken black feathers that were attached to the collar of what seemed to be a long black cloak. She pulled the heavy cloth from the box and saw what was beneath it. Neatly folded into the box was a silken dress, the likes of which she had only seen on the most elite of Gotham's citizens. She held her breath as she ran her fingers over the luxuriously dark fabric. It was black with hints of blue and mimicked the shine of raven feathers.

"You really outdid yourself, Doctor Crane," She murmured to herself as she lifted the dress from the box. She rested her new clothing gently on the couch and reached for the envelope once more. She counted the money inside and nearly wept. It was more than she had seen in a long time.

It looked as though her financial troubles were going to be a thing of the past, but she knew better than to think all of her troubles were over. She knew that in reality, they were just beginning.


	14. Chapter 14

Angela combed her fingers through her hair as she looked herself over in the foggy bathroom mirror. She hardly recognized herself. The dress Doctor Crane had given her was extravagant to say the least. It was strapless and long flowing, but gave her a range of motion with the slit that ran along the left side of the dress – stopping half way up her thigh. The top of the dress was corseted and made her modest breasts swell like the chest of a bird, which seemed to be the motif of the outfit.

The cloak hung over her shoulders was dazzling with its blue-black feathers that just barley swept the ground. She felt powerful and vulnerable all at once. Never in her life would she have been able to afford such a garment. She paired it with a set of black heels she had gone out to buy the night before – long after her "new associate" had left her apartment. Angela suppressed the disgust she felt for herself for accepting the offer Doctor Crane had made to her.

She wiped the fog from her mirror and stared uncertainly at her own reflection. She was glad for the warm shower that helped to sooth her tense muscles, but it would do nothing to prepare her for the night ahead of her. Did she really agree to do what she agreed to do? Was she seriously about to go to a black tie event with a man who had attacked her in her own home – after she had saved his life no less? She let out a huff as she held her gaze in the mirror.

Her hands were shaking as she gripped the sink. It was now 5:30 and she had to hurry if she wanted to make it out on time.

I don't like to be kept waiting, the words from the note echoed in her mind.

She took some time to apply her makeup and finish drying her hair out. She brushed back her short black hair in a way that made it look sleek and feminine. When she finally stepped out of her bathroom and into the living room she looked to her wall clock and saw that it was already 6:05. She jumped and raced out of her door, heading straight for the elevator. She pressed the button several times to find that it was out of order, a fairly regular occurrence that she should have been expecting.

Angela raced down the stairs as quickly as she could in her pair of heels. When she came to the glass door at the front of her building she paused to look out on the rain slicked street. Right before her building was an impressively expensive looking black car. She was shocked to find that it was still in good condition and the tires weren't already stolen out from under it.

You couldn't leave such an expensive vehicle parked in a neighborhood such as this, but when she looked closer she noticed the neatly dressed figure leaning against the passenger side door, and the look of anger on said figures face. She internally groaned as she pressed forward and opened the door to step out onto the sidewalk.

"My instructions were specific, Miss Sterling," Doctor Crane said as he looked up from glaring at the pavement.

Angela let out a huff of air, her breath coming out in a small cloud because of the chilled Gotham air. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

"We don't have time for excuses. Get in." Jonathan opened the back door on the passenger's side and waited for her to get in before sliding in after her. He took note of the fact that she shuffled as closely to the opposite side of the car as possible.

Angela looked forward and noted the separating window that opened to reveal the driver sitting in the front seat. It was the man who had come into her apartment the day before, The Riddler.

"Hey there, Angie," he said with a wink as he eyed her through the rearview mirror. "You clean up nice."

"Shut up and Drive, Edward," Jonathan grumbled as he sunk back into his seat, getting comfortable. The car moved forward and made its way up and out of the Narrows. He looked over to Angela, who in turn looked very uncomfortable. Her muscles were tense and she was leaning as closely as possible to the door as she watched the cityscape go by. He leaned forward to try and catch her eye but she ignored his movements, though he noticed her muscles grow a little more tense as he leaned closer.

Angela clenched her fist around the doors handle and tried to keep her breathing steady while she felt his eyes on her. She gripped the door so tightly that the muscles in her arm were shaking. When she couldn't take any more of the staring she whipped her head around to glare back at him. "What!?" she shouted a little louder than she meant to. She noticed the faint smile twitch at the corners of his mouth.

Angela stared straight into those blue eyes for the first time in over a month, and they were just as cold and calculating as she had remembered them. She couldn't stop the chill that reached her, and she knew he had noticed it when she saw that smile on his lips grow ever so slightly. "Tell me what I'm doing here," she said as she sank into her seat, trying to get comfortable.

"It should be a simple enough task for you," he said. "I just need you to accompany me, make my offer seem legitimate, and charm the rich folk into offering up their money. Think you can handle that?"

Angela frowned back at him. "So you hired me as some kind of escort?"

"In a way, yes," he replied frankly. "The rich tend to empty their pockets at the feet a pretty woman."

Angela bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from shouting back in retaliation over such a remark. He was watching her, gauging her reaction to the entire situation. He noticed how tense she looked whenever he leaned in any closer and decided to scoot into the middle seat in order to intrude a little more into her personal space.

"Whatever you're doing, please stop," she said quietly as she looked down at her hands.

"No," he said leaning slightly closer, "If we're going to do this then you're going to have to get used to me being near you. I can't have you're fragile little mind shuddering every time it I'm near you. They'll think I've got you there as a hostage. Don't forget, you agreed to do this."

She drew in a deep breath and nodded her head. They sat in silence before she finally spoke. "It doesn't help that you made me watch as you blew up my job and then tazed me in my own living room, after I pretty much saved your life – twice."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "It's not as though you were going to be working there forever, Angela. Besides, you've got a new job now. Thanks to me. You're welcome. And trust me, this one will pay much better than your last."

"But at what cost?" She asked and looked unfalteringly into his eyes. Their gaze met and Jonathan tilted his head slightly as his cold look washed over her.

"If morality was you're concern then maybe you shouldn't have been working at a strip club."

His icy words hit her deep. "I didn't have much of a choice." She shot back, her brow creasing in anger. She felt her blood begin to boil. Who was he to judge her? He was a criminal, lowest of the low. He had no right coming into her life and mucking everything up the way he did.

"We all have a choice, Angela. You were just too afraid to make a different one. But oh, my dear, you were brave once. I remember that day when you first found me in the alley." He closed his eyes as if recalling the memory.

"Its raining, its pouring

The old man is snoring.

He got into bed

And bumped his head

And couldn't get up in the morning.

You helped me get up again, Angela. We're going to help each other now. This is a business proposition you shouldn't be afraid of. Just keep in mind, there's nothing to fear but fear itself."

"Yeah, Jonny here isn't so scary. It's the Scarecrow you should be afraid of!" The Riddler interjected from the driver's seat.

"Thank you for that, Edward, but I recall you agreeing to keep your idiotic mouth shut while you drove!" Jonathan shouted and then slammed the window shut that separated the driver's side from the back of the car.

The storm that was beginning to brew inside Angela settled down and she shook her head and grasped the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself.

She noted Jonathan's movements as he reached into the pocket behind the passenger's seat. When he withdrew his hand he was holding a small black velvet box that he held out for her to take.

"I usually prefer to wait a while before a guy starts buying me jewelry," She said with a small chuckle as she took the box from his hand. She didn't know why she was expecting a normal human reaction from him, when all she was going to get was that blank, cold look in return for her small joke.

She opened the box to see a delicately elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a beautiful black diamond in the shape of a tear drop and it was surrounded by smaller white diamonds. She lifted it gently from the box, eyeing the glittering jewel in awe. This man was giving her whiplash. One moment he was judging her choices and the next he was quoting nursery rhymes and offering her expensive jewelry.

She opened the clasp and struggled with trying to close it behind her neck to put it on. Just as her arms were getting tired from reaching back Jonathan huffed out, impatient for her to put it on. "Here, let me," he mumbled.

Angela paused for a moment. She was unsure about being in such close contact with him, but he was right, she had to get used to him if they were going to pull this off. She passed him the necklace and turned to allow him access. He reached around her to drape the necklace around her neck and easily clasped it behind her.

She held her breath as she felt him draw closer to whisper in her ear. "See, I'm not so difficult to be around, Angela."

She tuned to look at him but he had already directed his attention forward. "Tonight I want you to steer clear of using my name, understand?" he said. "Tonight I go by the name Ebenezer Laughton, or just Doctor Laughton should be fine."

"You're using an alias, why?"

"Because I'm a wanted criminal. And to protect you, you'll need one too."

"So," she paused for a moment, "What is my name going to be?"

"I'm sure you'll figure one out." He leaned forward and knocked on the glass panel. "Hurry it up Edward. We don't want to over do it on the fashionable lateness," he said loudly so Edward could hear him clearly.

"You never wanna do anything fashionably," Edward whined from the front seat. He pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal and soon enough they were pulling up to an illustrious mansion.

Angela looked out the window as she tried to steady her breath. "I don't know if I can do this," she said turning to Jonathan. "I'm not used to being around rich people. What if I do something wrong?"

He looked at her in that vaguely uninterested manner of his and gave her a fake smile that did nothing for her nerves, "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

The car came to a stop and Angela went to reach for the door knob. Jonathan snatched her hand away before she could get the door open. "What are you doing?" Angela looked back it him in question. "You're rich, my dear. Doors are open for you." And at that she felt the door knob slip from her fingers as a man in a tuxedo held her door open for her.

"You kids have fun," she heard Edward say as she stepped out of the car. Jonathan shot him a glare from the rearview mirror before getting out.

Jonathan grabbed her hand and placed it on his arm as they walked up to the front steps of the mansion. Another man in a black tux held the door open for her – she would be lying if she said it didn't make her feel important.

A man dressed in nicely tailored suit walked up to them and reached out to shake Jonathan's hand, "Nice to see you again Doctor Laughton, and who is this lovely little thing you have on your arm tonight." The man reached out and placed a kiss on her hand. Jonathan looked at her, waiting for the name she would choose.

"Doctor Young," she replied, and saw the smile spread across Jonathan's face. "Doctor Penelope Young."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case any of you weren't aware, Ebenezer Laughton is the name of the Marvel equivalent of Scarecrow. How's that for breaking the fourth wall? And if you don't know who Penelope Young is, I suggest you go play (or replay) Batman: Arkham Asylum immediately… after leaving a review of course ;)


	15. Chapter 15

Angela and Jonathan spoke to the man for a few moments, making small talk about their ride into the city before they proceeded into the room. Angela observed the grand foyer in awe. A curling staircase stood on either side of the landing that led to the second floor. The marble floors reflected the light and filled the room with a dazzling glow that made her forget all about the cold rain that fell outside.

They moved past the servers offering wine and past the French doors that lead to a large room filled with dozens of people. Angela stared in awe at the magnitude of luxury that these people lived in. Every individual in the room was covered from head to toe in lavish fabrics and every woman in the room wore jewelry Angela would never even dream of getting her hands on. She touched the jewel on her neck and felt a tad silly for feeling like it was a lavish gift. It felt so insignificant amongst all the other jewels.

Jonathan leaned over to speak quietly to her, "it would be preferable if you picked your jaw up off the floor."

Angela caught hold of herself and did as she was told. "I'm sorry," she said as they proceeded. "I've just never seen anything like this."

Jonathan chuckled at her nervousness, "You're just an actor tonight, Dear. Don't forget, this is more than just a party. It's a benefit. These people have been provided all the information they need on where to send their money. All we have to do is convince them to do so. Now pull yourself together. The camera is rolling."

They continued into the room and headed straight towards the man who stood out the most in the room. He was surrounded by several people and wore a white tuxedo with a black shirt beneath it and a white tie. He stood as an inverse to the rest of the room. This, to Angela, screamed wealth.

"Ah, Doctor Laughton," the man said as he pressed through the crowd towards them, "How nice of you to come."

Jonathan reached his hand out to shake the man's hand. "Thank you for inviting me Mister Luthor. You've created such a lovely gathering here."

"Thank you Doctor, and who is your friend?" he said gesturing towards Angela.

Angela stepped forward to answer for herself, "Doctor Penelope Young. Lovely to meet you Mister Luthor." She kept her chin up, remaining the epitome of affluence and glamour.

"Please, call me Lex," he said with a daring smile. Angela's cheeks flushed a bit at his directness. "Please, help yourselves to some refreshments and enjoy the night. I'll hope to be seeing you both again before the end of the night, and I expect a dance from you, Doctor Young." Lex strode off to his next guests coming into the room as Angela took hold of Jonathan's arm again.

"That was very well done, my dear," Jonathan said with a complimentary smirk. "You'll have them eating out of the palms of our hands by the end of the night."

"But I didn't really do anything," she said with a light chuckle as she let herself settle into a more relaxed mood.

"Then I hope you continue to do 'nothing' for the rest of the night, as it seems to be working."

"What's the next step then, Doctor?"

"How about a drink?" he said with one of those smiles that failed to reach his eyes.

They stepped over to the open bar and ordered a glass of champagne for each of themselves. Jonathan raised his glass to her, "to a lovely night of schmoosing our way to the wallets of the rich folk."

"I suppose I can toast to that." They raised their glasses to one another and each took a sip.

"Now look alive. There's one approaching us as we speak," he muttered behind his glass.

An older woman in a lilac colored dress approached them. Her salt and pepper hair reached down past her shoulders and was set in such a way that not a single strand was out of place. She smiled flirtatiously at Jonathan as she began to speak.

"I don't believe I've seen either of you before. Are you a new associate of Mister Luthor's?" she acknowledged Angela's presence but spoke directly to Jonathan.

"I guess you could say that," Jonathan said as he shook her hand. "My name is Doctor Ebenezer Laughton, and this is my colleague, Doctor Penelope Young." Angela shook her hand but chose to remain silent to observe how Jonathan would approach this woman.

"Martha Burk, charmed. And just what is it you're a doctor of, Ebenezer? I hope you don't mind if I call you by your first name," she said with a sparkling smile.

"Not at all, Martha," He said with one of his fake smiles. She couldn't tell it was fake, but Angela sure could. Martha giggled like a young girl at the use of her name. "I'm a doctor of the sciences," he continued, "Our lab studies the finest in medical age reduction. We're currently undergoing the process of researching a serum that will clear away even the slightest of wrinkles, but I highly doubt it's something you would be interested in. you don't look a day over 40."

You're pushing it, Crane. Angela thought. That woman looks like she's nearly in her 70's.

Martha giggled again, "Well I would love to hear more about it. Please, have your secretary email me about it," she said gesturing towards Angela.

Angela tried her best to keep a straight face. She'd be damned if she ever had to be the Doctors secretary.

Jonathan chuckled, "of course, I'll have my 'secretary' get on that straight away. It was lovely to meet you, Martha."

Angela turned to him the moment Martha was out of earshot. "Your secretary? Not a chance in hell."

"Now, now, Miss Young. No need to get so riled up over a silly mistake."

"That's Doctor Young to you, Sir."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "You're not even an actual Doctor."

"Neither are you… anymore," she shot back.

"Touché."

"Regardless, I think she was interested in you, Doctor. You should go get her number," Angela teased. Jonathan gave a look of disgust as he took another sip of his champagne.

They continued their way around the room and spoke to several people. With their combined efforts they had acquired the contributions of no less than a dozen patrons. At several points she caught the eye of Lex Luthor as he watched the pair of them amidst his conversations with the other guests.

"I think something is wrong. Mister Luthor has been watching us closely throughout the party," Angela said as she pulled Jonathan aside.

Jonathan glanced over to Lex from the corner of his eye and saw that he was indeed watching them. "Perhaps it is time for us to take our leave," he said as he grasped Angela by the arm and lead her towards the exit. Just as they were about to hit the edge of the room Lex Luthor stepped out in front of them, blocking their way to the exit.

"Leaving so soon?" Lex asked. "We haven't had our dance yet, Doctor Young."

Angela glanced at Jonathan, as if searching his eyes for approval. He gave the slightest of nods before Angela took Lex's hand and he led her toward the dance floor.

"I'll have to warn you," she said as he pulled her into the first step, "I'm a bit out of practice."

"Don't worry. You're not fooling anyone, girl. Not everyone here keeps a close eye on Gotham - the asylum especially - but I'm informed enough to know that Penelope Young is dead." Lex looked down at her with a cold gaze. All the warmth of his flirtation gone. She felt as though someone had poured ice water down her back. Angela did her best to keep her composure but she stumbled forward on the next dance step, falling a bit closer into Lex's personal space.

Her nervous demeanor, no matter how hard she was trying to hide it, amused him. He let out a small chuckle as he kept her in a hold that wouldn't allow her to put more space between them. Her unease gave him a feeling of power, a thing he held most dear. "I don't know who you are, but I know who he is," Lex told her as he gestured towards Jonathan, "and I know that if he's involved, then you're up to no good."

"And what good have you done for the world, Mister Luthor," she said catching him off guard.

He chuckled at her tenacity. "This isn't about me."

"Then what is it about?"

"Curiosity, mostly," he said almost uninterested.

"And just what kind of knowledge were you looking to acquire?" Angela kept her features calm but she couldn't stop herself from furrowing her brow. She looked out to the edges of the room, searching for Jonathan. She caught a glimpse of him, standing with his back against the wall and his arms crossed in front of him like a wallflower. He had been watching them closely the entire time and when she caught a hold of his gaze she noticed the intensity and fire behind it. He was outright furious. When he caught sight of the look on her face he stepped away from the wall and into the crowd. She couldn't see where he was heading but a feeling in her gut told her it wasn't good.

"I want to know what he's up to," Lex stated.

"And you think I would just tell you?" Angela scoffed. "I'm not being paid to rat him out. And I don't want to even imagine what would happen if I ever decided to betray him."

"The Scarecrow knows no loyalty. Like it or not, he'll get sick of you eventually. You're obedience means nothing to him."

"What makes you so sure about that?" Angela asked.

"I'm a well informed man, miss… I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught you're real name."

"That's because I never gave it," Angela said tersely. She felt Lex's grip on her tighten ever so slightly as a warning of his annoyance. "It's Angela. Angela Stirling." She gave in, not wanting to cause more trouble for herself.

Lex gave a hearty laugh at her answer, drawing the attention of some of the other people on the dance floor. He waited for the attention to dwindle with a smug smile on his face.

"You find something funny about that?" she said with a stern look.

"Oh, not funny, per se. Just amusing. You're father was Robert Stirling, if I'm not mistaken. Oh that's just fantastic."

Angela saw nothing amusing about it. Her blood boiled beneath her skin.

"Now I see. You're much more valuable than I initially thought" Lex continued with a light chuckle. "Why associate yourself with that scum you showed up with, Miss Stirling? Your father was a good man with a lot of good ideas and valuable talents. Is it the money?"

"Isn't it always?"

"You've a point there. Why not work for me? If money is your concern, then you'll have more than you could even imagine. You're much more valuable than you think, Miss Stirling. And if I may say," he began as he pulled delicately at one of the dark plumes on her cloak, "far too attractive to be seen with the likes of him."

It was now Angela's turn to laugh as she stepped out of his arms to end their dance. "I appreciate the offer, but truthfully, Lex, I don't care if you started from the ground up or if mommy and daddy never told you no. I don't trust rich men, specially the ones who always get their way."

Lex's face turned red with rage. How dare she turn down an offer from him and make him look like a fool! He reached to grab her harshly by the wrist but was cut off as he heard someone behind him clear their throat. He turned to see that it was Jonathan with a cold look in his pale eyes. "Excuse me, sir," Jonathan interrupted, "I believe I have the next dance." he stepped past Lex and pulled Angela gently onto the dance floor.

Angela looked back at Lex with a sly grin on her soft lips. Lex's brow furrowed as he gnashed his teeth together and stormed away from the crowd.

"Like a child who couldn't get his way," Jonathan shook his head. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. He doesn't scare me. You're right, he's just a child." Angela took a moment to steady herself from the whole situation. "You seem to be in a better mood since I last saw you standing at the edge of the room," she said.

"No one steals my secretary and tries to intimidate her," he joked as he led her effortlessly around the dance floor.

His grace left her a bit dumbfounded. "very funny," she said with a sour look, "and I didn't know you could dance."

Jonathan smiled playfully and spun her, landing them in a dip - their faces hardly an inch apart. "There's a great many things you don't know about me, Angela."

She felt her cheeks heat up as he pulled her back up from the dip. She noticed the glances of a few impressed party goers. Jonathan brought her in a tad closer as he continued conversation.

"What did Luthor say?"

"That he knows who you are, and he tried to offer me a position. I turned him down, if that wasn't obvious. After that whole affair, I don't think we'll be gaining his contribution."

"That's okay. I wasn't counting on it. He's not the only rich man in the room."

"Did you know this would happen, that he would recognize you?"

"I had a feeling," he replied.

"And you decided to come here anyway? Isn't that a bit reckless?"

"Why do you ask? Does the idea of being caught frighten you?" He said with a sly grin. "Not to worry my dear, there's always a fail safe. I wouldn't show up unprepared." He pulled her into an embrace as they continued across the dance floor. "There's no place safer than in the arms of the devil."

Angela stayed silent as she felt the sway of the music move them and she thought about what he had said.

"Besides," he began to add, "sometimes its fun to walk the cat among the pigeons."

"I haven't heard that one before," she laughed. "Is that the sort of excitement you get off on, Doctor?"

"Keep asking and you might find out exactly what it is I 'get off on', Miss Stirling."

Angela tilted her head back to balk at his reply.

"My apologies," He chuckled, "I'm hardly ever so crass. Just a bit excited is all?"

"About what?" Angela glared back at him, unsure of how to feel. The only time she had seen him become excited was when he was talking about his work, and that was never a good thing.

Jonathan led them off the dance floor towards a secluded area to continue speaking to her. "I've planted tanks of fear toxin around the estate," Angela's eyes went wide at this. "Nothing too drastic," he added, trying to reassure her, "just enough to send them running out the doors."

"Is that what you went to go do while I was with Lex?" She asked sternly.

"As I said, this was meant to be a fail safe. I left to make sure everything was in place when I saw that look on your face."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. "This isn't right. I didn't come here to terrorize people. I came here under the assumption that we were only here to make money for your cause."

"We were, and we have. But now it's time to have a bit of fun. Don't you agree?"

"I'm not so sure I agree with your idea of fun," she replied wearily.

"Come now, Angela. Think of it this way, haven't you ever been out shopping and you see a bratty child throwing a tantrum over not getting their way?" she nodded her head slowly, unsure of where he was going with this. "Haven't you ever wanted to step in and tell the parent to control their kid, or hell, even give them a good punishment yourself?"

Angela stood in silent contemplation. Sure the thought had come across her mind plenty of times, but that never meant it was right or should ever be acted upon. She glared back at him. "What if I say no?"

The excitement drained from Jonathan's demeanor and the cold look returned to his eyes. He set his jaw as a slight look of disgust washed over him. "Such a shame, Angela. Just when I think you're making progress, you take another step back."

"What the hell are you talking about? I lose progress in your eyes just because I don't want to hurt these innocent people?"

"Look around you," he hissed as he turned her to face the majority of the room, "Do these people really look so innocent to you? The richest of the one percent stand in the room here with you today. Do you think any of these people give a damn about the poor, the sick, and the dying? Do you think any of them would give a damn about you if they saw you starving in the streets?" He turned her to face him again. "They wouldn't, Angela, and do you know why? It's because people like us are only good for one thing – paving the way to their success."

"Please don't do this, Doctor Crane," she said with a tremble in her voice.

"I'm not going to," he said as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and handed a remote device to her. "I'll let you choose for yourself. Do you want to continue that life of fear that you live in, or are you ready to make you're way to the top? Choose quickly now. Edward is waiting for us outside."

Angela shut her eyes and clenched the remote tight in her fist. If she did this, what kind of person would she be? Would she be a monster like him? Was it better to be a monster than a worm beneath the shoes of the rich? Could everything the Doctor was saying really be so wrong?

She opened her eyes and released the vice grip she kept on the remote, studying it in her palm.

She didn't want to be afraid anymore. Afraid of living, of dying, of seeing herself succeed or fail. She didn't want to be afraid of the punishment that might come down on her for doing this she just wanted to have the rush of feeling alive.

Angela looked up to meet Jonathan's eyes. She gave the slightest of nods, a look of resolution on her face. Jonathan's grin grew, finally reaching his eyes this time. It was a look of pure delight as he grasped her other hand and began to lead her out of the room. "As soon as we hit the staircase outside," he told her.

They walked through the grand foyer and out the front entrance. Angela hesitated for the slightest moment, looking to Jonathan for reassurance. He gave her hand a light squeeze. It was all she needed before flipping the switch and pressing down the trigger.

As soon as she did this there was a loud woosh - like air being pulled through a wind tunnel - followed by a deafening silence. Jonathan pulled her towards the bottom of the steps as he knew what was about to happen next. An explosion of air was shot through the doors of the manor followed by a dark and heavy smoke.

"Hurry now," Jonathan said as their ride pulled up. "Don't want you feeling the effects of the toxin just yet."

Angela rushed into the car, Jonathan following closely behind her. He shut the door and looked out the window and watched with amusement as people came running out of the building, some of them screaming in terror.

Jonathan laughed openly in amusement. Edward sat in the driver's seat and chuckled while muttering words like "morons" and "imbeciles" under his breath. Angela leaned towards Jonathan's side of the back seat, practically on top of him as she pressed her nose to the glass to stare out the tinted windows in awe.

Edward began to roll the car forward and away form the estate as Angela kept her gaze out the window.

Jonathan paused in his laughter to watch her closely. He wished he could hear her thoughts in that exact moment. She suddenly turned to meet his gaze.

Angela's lips quirked at the corners, and her eyes glowed like a wildfire had been lit behind them. "That was exciting."


	16. Chapter 16

Jonathan watched Angela's expression in awe. Her pupils were dilated from the rush of adrenaline and her breathing had quickened. He found it intriguing that excitement could have nearly the same effects on the body as fear could. He once again found himself wondering exactly what her fears were and how they would affect her.

Angela finally sat back in her seat once they had cleared the property.

"What are you thinking?" Jonathan asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.

Angela's skin hummed with the trill of what she had just witnessed, but inside she still felt a bit unsettled. "It's like the feeling you have right after taking a test you were nervous about," she tried to explain. "Like you still have the shake of anxiety running through you, even though you know you didn't do so bad on the test."

Jonathan gave her a perplexed look.

"I don't know," she added. "That's the only thing I could think of that felt similar. I feel horrible and exhilarated all at once."

"There's no need to feel horrible," Jonathan said as he put his arm around her shoulders. He was delighted at the fact that she didn't shy away from him. "Those people got what they deserved."

Angela sat silently for a moment as she thought that over. "Who are we to pass that kind of judgment?" she finally responded.

Jonathan sighed and removed his arm from around her shoulders with a distasteful look on his face. Just when he thought he was making progress with her, she went and disappointed him. He sat back in his seat and looked out onto the road.

Edward looked at the pair of them through the rearview mirror and asked, "So besides that last part, how did it go?"

Jonathan replied with a sort and simple, "Everything went well, Edward."

Edward - unsatisfied with that answer - made eye contact with Angela, a pleading look on his face. "He obviously wants details," Angela told Jonathan.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "We made progress, achieved several contributions, and unfortunately, gained the attention of Lex Luthor."

"YOU WHAT!?" The Riddler shouted.

"Here we go," he groaned. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "There's no need to shout, Eddie. It's no big deal. He just-"

"Don't give me that crap, Jon! You went into this thing knowing Luthor could be a threat. He recognized you, didn't he? He recognized you and you go and gas his mansion anyway?" Edward glared at him through the mirror as he continued, "You're completely irresponsible. You put us all in danger, and worst of all, you put the whole plan in danger, and for what? Are you trying to impress-"

Jonathan very suddenly reached his boiling point. His fist flew strait toward Edward's temple, knocking him out clean. Angela let out a shriek as the car swerved to the left. Jonathan quickly reached through the dividing window and steadied the steering wheel. As the car came back into control he reached for the emergency break and parked the car along the curb. Luckily, there were no other cars on the road to see the whole ordeal.

He got out of the car and walked to the driver's side door, shoving Edward into the passenger seat as he got behind the wheel. Angela still had a look of shock on her face while Jonathan continued down the road as if nothing had happened.

She looked to the Riddler who was slumped to the side in the passenger seat. "Is he gonna be okay?" she asked.

Jonathan glanced at Edward and then to Angela and the concerned look she had on her face. "He'll be fine."

"I meant is he gonna be okay with the fact that you just did that?"

He glared out at the street as he gave his curt reply, "He'll get over it." She opened her mouth to ask another question but he cut her off before she could even get a word out. "Quiet," he demanded. Angela's mouth snapped shut but she kept an irritated look on her face. "I have instructions for you. When we get back to Gotham you're going to run into your apartment and take only what you need. As much as I hate to admit it, Edward is right. I can't leave loose ends. The Bat isn't stupid. I'm sure he's already made the connection that you were the one who helped me the night we met."

Angela stared at him, dumbfounded. She didn't know how she let herself continue to fall into this man's trap. One moment he could be charming and the next he could be ruing her entire life as she knew it. She couldn't mask the rage that filled her. "You're making me leave my apartment? You can't be serious. I have a life you know!"

"What life?" he said in that ice cold voice of his. "You have no job, no family to speak of. I can't let the Bat get to you. You're too much of an asset to me right now."

"You don't know a thing about me, Crane. I have people who will look for me."

"Who?" He demanded. "That buffoon of a bartender you used to work with?" He let loose a chilling laugh. "Are you really still so naïve to think he really cares about you?"

The blood drained from Angela's face, making her normally olive-toned skin look ghostly pale. "You've been watching me?"

Jonathan caught a glimpse of the fear in her eyes and decided to see how far he could push it. "Only recently. I had Edward checking in on you and he caught a glimpse of you and your dear, sweet Donald walking back from the café. Does that scare you Angela? The fact that I know all about him, that at the slightest whim I could find him if I really wanted to?"

Angela stayed silent and shook with a mixture of rage and fear.

"It should scare you," he continued. "Use that fear, Angela, and remember – you work for me now. The moment you took that envelope, filled to the brim with cash, you agreed to this."

"I didn't think you would take it this far," she said dejectedly. "I didn't think you would try to ruin my life."

"I'm not ruining your life," he replied, "I'm making you a new one. Believe me, you'll thank me some day."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest as she glared out her window. "No wonder they locked you up in Arkham," she growled.

"Keep up the attitude and I'll think twice about letting you collect your things." Jonathan focused his attention on the road ahead as she kept quiet for the remainder of the ride. Some time later they passed back into the city limits.

"You have five minutes," he told her as they pulled up to her apartment. Angela nodded once and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

She ran up the steps to her apartment, cursing the shut down elevator on her way up. The moment she made it through the door to her unit she dropped to the ground and let her tears flow heavily. She blamed herself for everything that had happed in her life in the past two months. She couldn't believe the situation she had gotten herself into. How could she have let herself be so naïve about all of this? She thought that she was stronger than that.

After a minute or so she gathered her resolve and picked herself up off the ground and wiped her tear stained cheeks. This was a horrible situation, but she wouldn't let herself lose control. Angela told herself that she was strong, and she could get through this. She told herself it would only last a little longer and then she could go back to having her life. She would get out of this situation, take her life back, and find a new job to carry her through the rest of college.

She ran into her room to change into something she could actually move in. She tossed the dress Doctor Crane had give her onto the bed and changed into a pair of dark gray cargo pants, a t-shirt, and a black, pull-over hoody to protect her from the chill of Gotham's coming winter. She finished it off with a pair of boots she knew she could move easily in. She rushed to find her biggest duffle bag and went into the bathroom to find her essentials.

Angela came back into her room to pack whatever clothes she could fit into the bag. She came across her tazer in one of her drawers. She went to reach for it when suddenly her bedroom window slid open. She saw someone standing on her fire escape that began to step in through the window.

She was about to scream until the figure rushed forward and clamped his hand over her mouth. She stopped panicking when she realized that it was Doctor Crane.

"As much as I would love to hear that fearful scream of yours," he snidely remarked, "we don't have time for it. I came up to see what's taking you so long."

Angela shoved him away with a glare. "I'm almost done." He watched her as she reached into her drawer to grab her tazer and slapped her hand away from it before she even touched it. "What the hell!" she shouted.

"I said only what you need," he replied dryly. She pierced him with an icy stare which he returned in kind. "Don't even try it, Angela. You may think me weak just because you had to take care of me for some time, but I'm fully healed now. You don't want to test me."

They stood there for a moment, staring each other down. Angela's mind raced in that moment as she contemplated her chances. If she had even the slightest opportunity at getting away from him, she would have to take it. Against her better judgment she rushed him, ducking down and slamming him into the wall with the force of her shoulder. He lost his breath for a second but almost immediately regained his composure. He let out a chilling laugh as she went to punch him in the jaw but he caught her by the wrist.

He twisted her arm behind her back until he had her facing the wall and she cried out in pain. With his other hand he reached for the tazer in her drawer and brought it up to her face that was now pressed up against the wall. He held it inches away from her as he pressed the button several times in warning. "Do you want to remember what it felt like, Angela?" he said in a voice that wasn't quite his own.

Angela did her best to glance over her shoulder and immediately regretted it when she caught the look on his face. His pupils had fully dialed, nearly consuming the entirety of the iris and making his eyes appear much darker than they normally were, just as they were the night he had attacked her to keep her from leaving the apartment. She showed her fear for the briefest moment and immediately regretted it as she saw the excitement in his dark eyes.

She kicked her leg back to strike him which gave her just enough time to squirm out of his hold. She began to climb out the open window and onto the fire escape when he suddenly grabbed her by the hair and pulled her harshly back into the apartment.

She gasped in pain as he threw her back and she fell to the floor. Angela looked up at him and no longer saw Doctor Crane standing before her. Who she saw was much more sinister than she could have even imagined he could become. A twisted smile played on his lips as he looked down on her. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and showed her the needle he held in his hand, filled with a golden liquid.

"Aren't you the slightest bit curious?" he said quietly as he pushed down on the plunger - just enough for a golden drop to fall from the tip of the needle, "I know I am."

He began to step towards her and she scooted backward until she had her back against the opposite wall of her room. Just as he was about to reach down towards her she threw her arms up in surrender. "Please!" she shouted, "Don't. I'll go with you. Just, please, stop."

Jonathan looked down on her as a mixture of emotions crossed his normally composed face. He finally settled on a disgruntled look as he put the needle back into his breast pocket. Angela yelped as she was picked up off the floor by the collar of her hoody. The duffle bag she had previously dropped was shoved back into her arms.

"Let's get going," he said as he began to push her towards the door.

"Wait," she pleaded, "I just have to grab something." She didn't wait for his reply as she slipped past him to get back into her room. Jonathan watched her closely as she opened her bedside drawer and stuffed the envelope of money he had given her into the duffle bag. He also noticed that she had grabbed a photograph, which she promptly placed in the bag before turning back to him. "Okay, now I'm ready."

"No you're not," he said as he scooped her text books off of her bedside table and tossed them into her arms. "But you are now. Hurry," he said as he ushered her out of the apartment and into the hall. They moved quickly out to the car where Edward was still out cold in the passenger seat. Before they got in Jonathan grabbed Angela by the shoulder and turned her to face him. She looked confused as he began to remove his tie and handed it to her.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" she asked.

He looked at her like she was an idiot. "Blindfold," he replied, "I can't risk having you know the exact location I'll be taking you to. You're still a liability."

"Until I get Stockholm syndrome, right?" she said dryly. Jonathan gave her a bored look. Angela sighed as she shook her head. She put the tie over her eyes and secured it behind her head. He adjusted it to make sure it was properly covering her vision before opening the car door for her and helping her into her seat.

The drive was silent, save for a groan from Edward every now and then as he shifted in his seat. Angela did her best to try to be attentive about how long they were driving for and what direction they were headed in. The vehicle came to a slow stop and Angela sat quietly as she heard her car door open and she was pulled out of the car by her arm.

She went to reach for her makeshift blindfold but her hands were swatted away before she could untie it. "Not yet," he grumbled. "Don't move."

Angela leaned on the side of the car with a sullen look on her face. She heard the passenger door open and Jonathan speaking quietly to Edward. "Wake up Eddie, we're back."

Edward groaned and mumbled, "Hard to catch, easy to hold, can't be seen unless it's cold."

It took Jonathan a moment to realize Edward was asking him a riddle. He opened his mouth to give the answer but was cut short by Angela's response. "Your breath," she answered. Jonathan glared daggers at her for cutting him off when he had the answer but was glad that Edward was awake now as he stretched and stepped out of the car.

"Well done Angie, that was an easy one though." He adjusted his coat before pushing past Jonathan to get to the key pad that unlocked the door to their hideout. Jonathan took a deep, calming breath before he let his temper with Edward get the best of him - again.

He walked back over to Angela and guided her through the door. They walked down a short hall and Angela heard the echo of her steps on the concrete floor. She startled when the solid concrete ground became a less secure metal grating that shifted with their weight. She found it unsettling since she couldn't see a thing. She felt the gut tightening feeling of being on a descending elevator and couldn't help the cold sweat that formed on brow. If this elevator was going down as far as she thought it was, there wasn't a chance in hell she was getting away from these two any time soon.

The lift came to a slow stop and she heard a metal gate slide open. Suddenly the blindfold was pulled from her eyes and she was met with a remarkable sight.


	17. Chapter 17

Upon the rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department a shining beacon lit up the city scape. A red caped figure stood tall at the edge of the building, awaiting the arrival of his long time friend. His companion appeared out from the shadows, his scalloped cape billowing in the wind.

"Why did you call me here, Clark?" Batman asked in a brooding tone.

"Nice to see you too, Bruce," the other responded with a familiar tone. He was none other than Superman. The hero of Metropolis. His cape flapped and fluttered in the wind as he floated down from the edge of the building to meet with his companion. "One of yours got into my area," said the Kryptonion.

"Does the commissioner know you're up here?" the Bat said, ignoring his statement.

"Did you hear what I said?" Clark asked, his tone serious. "This isn't a joke, Bruce. Jonathan Crane is at large and all you care about is whether or not I have permission to use Gordon's flashlight?"

"I know about Crane," he responded with a scowl, "but unless you have information I don't already know, then you're wasting my time."

Superman looked at his friend and tried to gauge what was going on behind that cape and cowl. He knew that Batman had not been the same since the Joker's death. Every time they met he seemed to be more and more distant. "You don't have to keep blaming yourself, you know," Clark told him with a somber expression.

"Are we done here?" Bruce responded shortly.

Clark sighed, guessing that now wasn't the best time for this conversation anyway. "As it turns out, I do have information for you. I spoke to Lex Luthor - who was very unhappy about the whole ordeal - and he said that he recognized Crane, and he wasn't alone."

Batman now looked somewhat interested. "Another rogue?" he asked.

"No, a date. He was there with a woman. She was using the name Penelope Young." Batman looked a bit surprised at this information. "You know her?" the Kryptonion asked.

"Used to. She was a doctor at Arkham and was killed by Joker during the Arkham riots. She was the creator of the Titan Project. Did Lex find out the real name of this woman?"

Superman shook his head. "He says he didn't, but I know he was lying. I'm not sure why he would though. He must have some sort of interest in her if he wants to keep it a secret." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Why would Crane be working with a woman?" he asked curiously. "It doesn't seem like his modus operandi in the least. I'm even surprised at his connection with Riddler and the Hatter."

"I know," the Bat responded. He stood quietly for a moment, wondering who it possibly could be that Crane put so much trust in. "Did Luthor say anything about what this woman looked like?"

Clark nodded in response. "He said she had dark hair. That's all I could get out of him." Batman turned and headed toward the edge of the building, preparing to take off. "You know who it is?" Clark called out to him.

"Her name is Angela Stirling," Batman called over his shoulder before shooting his grappling hook and taking off into the city. Superman watched his friend disappear into the night and hoped that this new lead would serve to bring back a part of the old Batman.

Angela took the first few steps off of the freight lift. Jonathan and Edward stayed behind as they observed her. She was standing in a large concrete room. The wall across from the elevator was covered from end to end with computer monitors, controlled by a single console.

She could hear the hum of electricity that came from them as she got closer and saw only one office chair before it. Angela thought it ridiculous that a single person would need all of these monitors.

She looked to the corners of the room and saw tables covered in odds and ends of machinery. On one of the tables she saw a robotic head laying on its side. She went to go look at it but was stopped short.

"Don't touch it," the Riddler said sternly. "It's not complete."

Angela backed away from the table and looked at the rest of the room. There wasn't much else to it but for two metal doors, one on either side of the room. "What the hell is this place?" she said, finally shaking from her stunned silence.

"This is the place you'll be calling home for the time being," Jonathan said as he came up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder. She shrugged out of his hold, uncomfortable with being close to him once more. He smiled at this. She was afraid of him again, good. "Follow me," he said, heading toward the door on the right.

They entered a room that had several cots in it, besides that it was fairly barren. A few piles of clothes were gathered in some places but that was the only indication that people had been staying here.

"I take it you guys don't sleep much." Angela observed aloud. She also noticed that one of the cots was neatly covered while the other had a blanket messily bunched up on top of it and a few books scattered beside it.

Jonathan nodded. "You would be correct in that assumption. Edward and I both suffer from insomnia. We're very occupied by our work most of the time." He gestured for her to put her things down by the third cot in the room. "You'll be the only one using this room for the most part, so make of it what you will."

Edward walked into the room behind them and sighed gruffly, "Don't you ever fix your damn bed, Jon?" Jonathan gave a smirk as they watched Edward walk over and fix the messy blanket.

"You're very meticulous," Angela observed.

He frowned back at her. "Do you fix your bed at home?" He asked as he pulled the covers up the cot.

"Sometimes, when I have the time," she responded.

"Good," Jonathan chimed in. "We need some middle ground here. Edward is far too meticulous about, well about everything he does. It's a waste of time, in my opinion."

Edward glared at him as he finished making the bed. "And Jonathan just doesn't give a damn about most things, besides his work of course."

Angela tensed up at the thought of Jonathan's work. He sensed her discomfort and looked to her, attempting to gauge her emotions. A chill ran down her spine as his eyes met hers and he reveled in it. She was most likely thinking of him pulling the needle out on her back at her apartment.

He didn't regret the fear he had instilled in her in the slightest. She needed to know that she should be afraid of him. She was lucky he had held back with her for this long. For some time now she had been pressing on the last of his nerves. Sure, he valued her as an accomplice, but that didn't mean he was going to continue to let her get in his way.

Jonathan watched Angela as she sat down on her designated cot and cradled her head in her hands as she stared down at the ground. This was all a lot for her to take in. Her life had gone through so many changes since she had met him.

"I think I need to be alone," she said quietly.

Jonathan nodded and gestured for Edward to leave the room with him. He wasn't concerned about her getting out. The only way out was through the elevator, and that was locked by a pin pad. Before they left he gestured to the other door in the room, "that's the bathroom if you need it," he told her.

"What about the other door, in the front room?" she asked. Jonathan frowned, unsure if he should even answer that question, but of course, Edward chimed in.

"If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you haven't got it. What is it?" he asked with a handsome grin, much to Jonathan's ire.

"A secret?" she responded after a moment of thought. Edward nodded happily at her quick response. Angela frowned, "Haven't you two put me trough enough? Why can't you just tell me?"

Jonathan's brow scrunched in frustration. "That's enough. Get your rest, Angela. I'll be in to speak with you later." They exited the room, pulling the door closed behind them.

Angela huffed and tossed herself down onto the cot, feeling like a ten year old who had been sent to bed early. She scrubbed her hands over her face, trying her very hardest not to break down the moment she was left alone. She tried to steady her breathing but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

She hadn't had this feeling since her father had died, she was having a panic attack. Angela sat back up as her heart raced in her chest and before she could even stop what was happening a sob escaped from her. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to draw the attention of her two captors.

Angela shuddered to think of what they might have in store for her. No amount of payment could have made her prepared for this. She should have known that it would have ended up like this. She shook with anger and wiped the tears from her face. She hated feeling like a child, like she wasn't in control of her own actions.

She stood from her cot and looked around the room. There wasn't much of anything in this room so she walked over to the door that lead to the bathroom. It wasn't anything special, just a white tiled room with a standing shower, toilet, sink and standard medicine cabinet. She opened the cabinet to see that the only thing in there was a tube of toothpaste.

She walked back out and realized that she was going to get very bored, very quickly in this place. She was frustrated beyond belief as she sat back down on her cot. She laid down and tried to get comfortable. She thought that maybe she could sleep to pass the time, but something was keeping her up.

Angela realized she had been watching the door the entire time, too afraid that Doctor Crane would walk in at any moment with that needle in his hand again. She had no clue what exactly was in it, but she remembered what it had done to the Batman. If it could make him scream in terror, she wondered just what affect it would have on her.

For a moment she thought on just how many times Crane had held back with her. He easily could have used his toxin on her by now if he had any real interest in doing so.

She stood up once more and, on impulse, began to move the extra cots in the room in front of the door. They were heavy, but with enough effort she was able to move them.

If he was going to attack her, kidnap her, and ruin her life and think he could get away with it all then he had another thing coming. If he wasn't going to give her a way out then she wasn't going to give him a way in. She wanted to know just how far she could push this man.

She knew it was a horrible idea that would get her into more trouble than it was worth, but she wasn't going to stand idly by and let someone else take control of her life. If he was going to get mad at her or attack her, then it was going to be under her terms.

Once she was done moving the cots she sat down and waited for what would come next.

On the other side of the door Jonathan stood by his colleague. Edward was busy clicking away at his computer as Jonathan was talking with him.

"That woman will drive me insane," Jonathan growled.

"Don't you mean more insane?" Edward laughed.

Jonathan smiled coyly. "I'm not insane, Edward. They still haven't been able to diagnose me at Arkham, and they've had years to do so. If anything, I probably belong in Blackgate Prison for my crimes. They just don't have as many resources as Arkham has to lock me up. Oh how Gotham loves the poetic justice of a psychiatrist ending up in the very asylum they worked for."

Edward shrugged. "You make a fine point, but tell me Jonny, what do you plan to do with that girl in there? Don't think I'm over our conversation in the car, especially after you knocked me out." He glared at his companion, "You're putting everything we've worked for in jeopardy for this woman. What's your plan for her?"

Jonathan turned toward his colleague, the glare from the computer monitors bounced off the lenses of his glasses and shielded his eyes from view, making his grin that much more menacing. "I'm going to break her down and build her back up of course."

"You can't be serious," Edward replied. He observed the look on Jonathan's face. His mouth was formed in a straight line and his look was unwavering. "Oh my, you are serious. You plan to bring her into an apprenticeship? Do you think that's even possible with the way she behaves towards you?"

"She'll change her mind soon enough. I look forward to the challenge of breaking her mind. She's strong willed, just the kind of person we've been looking for," Jonathan commented as he looked towards the door she was behind. "I'm going to go check in on her," he said as he approached the door.

"Good luck with that," the Riddler told him.

Jonathan turned the door knob and pushed forward on the door only to realize it wouldn't budge. He looked over his shoulder to Edward who was watching him closely.

"Don't look at me," Edward said, putting his hands up and turning back to his computer screens, "I'm not getting involved in this."

Jonathan turned back to the door with rage in his eyes as he began to bang on it. "Open the door, Angela!" he shouted as he continued to knock.

In the other room Angela sat confidently on her cot. She was watching when he had attempted the first push, and the way she had arranged the cots made opening the door impossible. "Not happening, Crane," she spoke loudly. "We're gonna do things on my terms now. I'm not going to let you continue to command my life the way you want to." She laid back on the cot with her hands behind her head. "I'll open that door when you're good and ready to tell me what that other room is."

Jonathan slammed his fists down on the door one last time before he began to pace back and forth, like a caged animal. Who the hell did this woman think she was? Did she think she could control him so easily? He paused in his motions as a thought came to him.

He was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

Jonathan approached the door once more with a sickeningly sweet tone in his voice. "Come now, my dear. Open the door and I'll tell you exactly what you want to know."

Angela tossed back her head in laughter. She didn't trust it for a second. She wasn't stupid enough to open that door for him, but she knew she couldn't stay locked up forever. "You're a smart man, Jonathan Crane. Find another way in."

Jonathan growled under his breath, "You truly are testing my patience, Angela. You're brave behind that door, but lets see how you fair when I pump you full of my toxin!"

"Good," she said approaching the door, "Let's see how far I can push you, 'Doctor'. You've been holding back on me. I'm sick of it. Do your worst. You asked if I was curious before, well consider my interest piqued."

Edward had been doing a good job of minding his own business, but he couldn't help but chuckle at her sarcastic use of the word doctor. Jonathan whipped his head towards him with death in his icy blue eyes. "Leave," Jonathan growled at him. Edward didn't have a moments hesitation as he got up from his chair and got into the elevator. He knew better by now than to be around when Jonathan was about to let Scarecrow take over.

After the elevator left Jonathan walked up to the vent that was near the door and ripped the grating out of the wall with ease. The space in front of him was tiny, so tiny that even a child would have some difficulty fitting into the space. Jonathan Crane was a thin man though, and most people didn't have the ability to dislocate their shoulders and hips as he could to fit into tight spaces.

He did just that and squirmed into the vent. It was a tight fit, but he was able to manage. He shuffled forward and around a corner to get to the grating on the other side.

Angela heard shuffling in the vents and quickly stood from het cot. She grabbed whatever she could find and stood with her back against the wall closest to the vent so she couldn't be seen.

The moment Jonathan was able to get the grating open and enter the room he was hit square in the face with a large medical text book. He howled in pain as he attempted to stand up, holding his face as blood dripped from his busted lip.

Angela stood in front of him, still holding the book. "Not so tough now are you, Crane?" She finally felt like she was in control, and though she was afraid of what would happen next, she felt a thrill of adrenaline.

She watched as he slowly rose from the ground. The stare she was hit with sent a chill like ice water down her spine. He grabbed his now bent glasses off of his face and threw them across the room.

Their eyes met and everything inside Angela told her to run. Run far and fast, but she held her ground, unwilling to give him even the slightest satisfaction of showing her fear. When he took a step towards her he expected her to at least step back, but he smiled with excitement as she held her ground.

"Your mind will be a delight to break," said the Scarecrow. His eyes were like pitch and his teeth were covered I the blood of his busted lip. He was glad to know the sight had an effect on her as she shook slightly at the sight of him.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said quietly.

Scarecrow let out a high pitched laugh. "Oh, but you are, my dear. You think I can't sense your fear? I can hear your blood rushing through your veins as your heart beats madly," he said taking a step towards her. "I can see the sweat forming on your brow," another step. "And I can already hear the screams ready to burst from your lungs," and suddenly he was upon her.

Angela instantly dropped her textbook and attempted her best to fight back against him as his thin fingers wrapped harshly around her shoulders. "I will watch as your fears tear your mind apart, piece by piece, and I will build you back up just to do it again," he whispered in her ear as she began to collapse from the pain of his grip.

She did her best to kick out at him but he stopped her actions by picking her up and easily putting her over his shoulder. She was surprised at his strength as she continued to kick and slam her fists onto his back.

He chuckled at her feeble attempt to escape as he kicked the cots away from the door and carried her into the computer room. "You want to know so badly what's in that room?" he asked darkly. "Allow me to show you."

He unlocked the door with a key he carried and flipped a switch as they entered the room. Her eyes were met with a stark white light that shined off of the linoleum tiles that lined the floor and walls of the room. Her nostrils were met with the familiar smell of a sanitized doctors office or laboratory, and when she was tossed into a chair, she realized that this room acted as both.

Angela's heart raced as she was strapped into the chair before she could even make a move. The Scarecrow leaned in close behind her to whisper menacingly in her ear, "You're in my world now, little crow."


	18. Chapter 18

Scarecrow stepped slowly around his latest subject, like a predator assessing its prey. After rolling up her sleeves, he gently ran the tips of his fingers over the goosebumps that were forming on her arms. A slight shiver ran down her spine at the sensation and he sensed the fear in her like a shark senses blood in the water. He inhaled deeply and basked in the marvelous feeling of power he had over her.

Angela watched him closely as he moved silently around the room. The anticipation of what was to come left her felling shaken. She knew he was going to use his toxin on her, but she didn't know what it would be like. That frightened her more than anything else.

He stepped out of her range of sight and she heard the sound of a metal drawer sliding open and then closed. She was not prepared for what she saw when he appeared again. For a moment she wondered whether she was seeing things, or if the toxin was already administered to her. The burlap sack he wore should have seemed ridiculous. It wasn't. It was terrifying.

Jonathan Crane no longer stood before her. It was the Scarecrow, with deep pits for eyes and a jaggedly cut opening for a mouth that was sewn shut with twine. On either side of the mouth were filters that indicated a gas mask lied beneath the burlap.

He stared deep into her eyes as he took in her reaction. The longer he stared the more Angela felt like the darkened eyes looking back at her were black beetles nestled into his skull. It made her skin crawl, and to her own surprise Angela felt her heart begin to race.

She had never feared monsters under her bed, or the boogeyman, but she had the sense to fear what stood before her now. Even though she was afraid, she did her best to appear strong. "I'm not afraid of you," she told him once more.

"Oh my dear, sweet, Angela. Soon you'll learn better than to tell me such lies," he purred in a metallic voice. The mask distorted the sound, making it seem as though there were two ghostly voices speaking at once.

He leaned in close to her and placed a hand on each side of the chair she was strapped to. It made her feel like a caged canary, and he was the hungry cat. She leaned as far back as the restricting seat would allow her, trying her best to give herself some space.

"Feeling claustrophobic?" he asked as he leaned in closer to her. "Are you afraid of felling trapped, closed in? Tell me what you're afraid of, Angela," he murmured as he gently brushed back the hair that was clinging to her forehead.

She turned her head away from him, trying her best to avoid those beetle black eyes. He refused to let her do so and grabbed her firmly by the chin.

"Amazing," he purred as he stared into her dark eyes. Her nostrils flared as her breathing quickened. "You're going to be quite the specimen, my dear. I can't wait to hear you scream."

"I won't give you the satisfaction," she growled as she turned her head from his grasp.

He let out a high pitched cackle and threw his head back, clutching his sides in his laughter. "That's what they all say. Do you really think yourself any different?"

She stayed silent and watched him make his way around the room. He began to hum a familiar tune as he grabbed a few things from around the room. It was far too whimsical a tune for the situation and it put Angela on edge as he approached her once more.

"Needle," he said opening his right hand to show her what lay in his palm, "or gas?" he said showing her the canister in his left. "I can't decide."

Angela stayed silent for a few moments as she glanced back and forth between the two objects. She wasn't afraid of needles, never had been. She never understood that deep fear that people had every time they went to the doctor, but she did fear the unknown. She had seen what the toxin did to Batman, but she hadn't seen what this gas could do.

"Neither, if you're giving me the option," she said with a cold and steady look.

He wagged a finger in front of her and tutted. "None of that," he said in a cool voice. "Have you not learned your lesson yet, Angela? I will not allow you to act against me any longer. Submit willingly and I'll do my best to make this less horrible for you."

"Not going to happen, Crane," she said as she glared back at him.

"Not Crane," he said, and suddenly she felt his hand strike out to grasp around her neck. "Scarecrow," he growled. She gasped as her head bumped the back of the chair. As she was gasping for air she saw a cloud of smoke come up between them and heard the metal canister hit the ground. "Now you will know fear."

She felt him pull the straps that secured her to the chair. She tried to stand but fell to the ground as she choked and gasped for clean air.

Scarecrow took a step back as he watched her desperately claw at her neck, but it was too late. Her lungs were already full of the toxin. Soon she would be careening into madness.

He chuckled low and deep as he crouched down to try and grab her attention. He tilted his head to look into her eyes, and what he saw was fascinating. Slowly, she began to still as she sat with her legs under her. Her breathing became rapid and her pupils dilated as her vison became unfocused. He waved a hand in front of her, but she was already lost to the toxin.

Her screams didn't start immediately. It was a rare case that the toxin would not have an immediate effect. In these cases it was a slow and steady nightmare that revealed deeper fears that were embedded in the psyche of the patient. He loved these rare cases. All that was left was for him to sit back and watch as she balanced on the edge of madness and sanity.

Angela shook as she stared at the ground before her. Slowly, she began to lose sight of the world around her. Everything grew dark and all she could see was her hands on the white tiled ground. It felt as though she were on a stage, with a single spotlight looming above her. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched either. She did her best to steady her breath as she tried to stand up in the world that her mind had created.

Her legs felt numb as she stood. She felt herself sway in place as she attempted to take the first step forward. The moment Angela's foot hit the ground a dim light began to illuminate a wide hallway that was ahead of her. Each step she took sent the florescent lights flickering on, one by one.

As she descended the dimly lit corridor she had a growing sense of familiarity. She passed several doors but each that she tried to open was locked. A few more steps and she came across a caged television that was attached to the wall.

Angela stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the logo that flickered onto the screen. A chime that was all too familiar sounded from the speakers and a chill ran down her spine.

"Attention!" a robotic female voice said from within the screen. "Doctor Stirling, please report to the botanical gardens immediately. Thank you."

Angela stood frozen as she stared at the Arkham logo that faintly flickered on the television screen. She screamed in her own mind that this couldn't be possible, that this couldn't be real and what she had heard wasn't true. She had been sent to her own personal hell in a matter of seconds.

She gripped the cage that contained the television, and that blasted Arkham logo, and shook it as she screamed. "This isn't real! It can't be. It's all a lie. Let me out of here!" she shouted as she shook the cage. In her last bought of frustration she punched the cage and yellped as she cut her knuckles on the cold metal.

Angela clutched the injured hand against her chest as she turned to look down the hall from the way she came. Suddenly, every light that had turned on in the hall began to flicker off one by one. The darkness was quickly approaching her. She couldn't understand why but with every inch that the darkness grew she felt more and more as though it was after her. She turned on her heel and booked it up the hall toward the light that shined at the end, but the faster she ran the faster the darkness followed.

Just when she felt as if she couldn't run any longer, she reached the end of the hall and a set of double doors. She held her breath with the hope that the doors were unlocked as she threw herself into them and fell forward into the next room. She tripped as she passed through the opening and fell to the hard tile on her hands and knees.

Angela scrambled to stand again, despite the pain from the fall. She noticed the dirt that was scattered upon the floor as she dusted herself off. It took her a moment to realize how odd it was to see so much dirt on a tiled floor, that is until she looked up at her surroundings and realized where she was. It was the botanical gardens. The place where her father had been murdered in cold blood.

Her knees shook and she nearly fell to the floor again. A heavy sob escaped her lips before she covered her face with her dirt covered hands. "You can't do this to me," she whimpered, "You can't control me like this."

On the outside of the world the toxin had created, the Scarecrow watched her intently, mentally taking notes of every hitched breath and chill that ran through her. He heard her whispered words and chuckled to himself, knowing that she couldn't hear him in the state she was in. He stood from the stool he had pulled up to her and grabbed her chin, knowing it wouldn't even register in her mind.

He gently brushed back the hair that had fallen forward on her face and looked into her dark eyes. What he saw in those eyes intrigued him. There was so much fear there, intermingled with a great sadness. It sent a pang of emotion through him that he didn't want to even acknowledge. A bit of guilt that he combated by pushing her away and taking back his perch on the stool. "You've much more to deal with, child. Don't go breaking on me just yet."

Back in her mind, Angela felt the world around her begin to spin as she heard the most unbearable sound she could have ever heard in that moment. Laughter.

"HAHAHA!"

It was him, that horrible excuse for a human being, the Joker. Angela's stomach churned as she heard the footsteps approaching, and the sound of voices growing closer. Her heart raced and suddenly her feet were carrying her far and fast until she reached the entrance to another room. She walked into an area of the gardens with a high, glass dome ceiling. This place was called the aviary.

Angela gasped as she entered and saw someone standing there. This was the place, and standing there was… she didn't even want to think it, couldn't even believe what her eyes were seeing. Her father.

She froze in place as he turned to face her and Angela fell to her knees instantly at the sight of him. His eyes were just as warm and kind as she remembered. He gave a look of shock as he saw his daughter there and ran towards her.

"Angela? What the hell are you doing here? It isn't safe." He said as he went to pull her up off the ground.

Angela sobbed as she threw her arms around him and pulled him in close. He brushed his hand over her hair and shushed her to try and calm her.

"Dad, I can't believe it's you," she sobbed. "You shouldn't be here. You can't be. You have to leave. He's coming for you."

Doctor Stirling looked at his daughter, confused. "Angela, what are you talking about? We're safe now. Batman helped us escape from those cages. We're safe, baby."

"No!" she screamed hysterically. "You don't understand. He's coming back. The Joker is headed this way right now." Angela shook as she grabbed her father by the front of his scrub uniform. "You have to leave, Daddy. Now!"

Robert Stirling looked at his daughter tenderly. "It's okay, honey. Everything is going to be okay," he murmured as he pulled her in close and smoothed her hair back. "I'm not afraid," he whispered to her.

Tears streamed down her face as she held her father close. She missed this. Being comforted by him, and being held when she was upset or afraid. It brought back memories of when she was little and she would wake up screaming from a horrible nightmare. He would run into her room and scoop her up into his arms, holding her like he never wanted to lose her, and murmuring promises that everything would be okay. All they ever had was each other.

"How can you say you're not afraid? How can you say that when there's a man on his way here to end your life?" she wept.

"Because I'm not of afraid of dying when I know you're strong enough to live without me. There's nothing to fear but fear itself, Angela."

Angela's eyes opened wide and she pushed away from him, shocked at the words she heard him say. Those weren't the words of her father, they were his, the Scarecrow's. She shook her head from one side to the other, over and over, trying to deny the fact that she hear him say those words.

"Please don't say that, Dad. It's not you," she pleaded with tears slowly dripping down her cheeks. "You always told me it was okay to be afraid."

Robert looked at his daughter with a somber expression, as if he regretted ever saying those words to her. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I was wrong. I don't want you to be afraid anymore. Fear is a weakness, and I want you to be strong."

Angela stared back at her father in disbelief, but it was cut short when they heard footsteps approaching the entryway of the aviary. Ruckus laughter followed as the doors swung wide open and the Jokers thin frame was illuminated by the light of the hall behind him. Two thick muscled thugs stood on either side of him, their tattooed arms bare for a menacing effect.

"Well looky here boys. It seems the good doctor escaped from his cage," he said, and laughed. "I wonder who could have let you out? You wouldn't have happened to see a lunatic dressed as a bat come this way, have you?"

Robert stood his ground and gave the Joker a cold stare in response. "You have no business being here, Joker. Just leave us alone and wait for Batman to destroy your plans like he always does."

Joker's plastered on smile fell as he heard Robert's retort. He stepped forward with a scowl on his face. "Bold words for a man who was just locked up like a little canary."

Robert stood his ground and pushed Angela behind him as the Joker approached. Her heart ached at her father's bravery and his need to protect her.

"Ahh," the Joker said in response to the doctor's small motion. "What have we here?" He leaned to the side and looked over Robert's shoulder. Angela shuddered at the grin that reclaimed it's usual position on his face.

"Stay away from my daughter, you degenerate," Robert growled. The joker let out a cackle. He snapped his fingers and his two lackeys moved forward to grab Robert.

"Leave my father alone!" Angela pleaded as the thugs roughly grabbed him. They ignored her as she tried to pull him back from them. She slammed her fists on one of the thug's backs in a feeble attempt to get him to stop. He turned around and backhanded her, knocking her back and leaving her shocked at the pain. The thug walked over to her and restrained her while the other man held her father back. They both struggled fervently in an attempt to make it back to each other, but it was useless.

The Joker walked slowly over to Angela as he looked her up and down, trying to size her up. "So you're the good doctor's little girl, huh?" He said this with a small chuckle that made it seem as if he had no control over the sound escaping him. "Are you ready to watch your old man die?"

"Don't you lay a hand on him," she growled as she struggled in the thugs grasp.

"HAHAHA joke's on you, princess. I don't have to lay a hand on your old man to hurt him. Although," he said as he struck a thoughtful pose, "that does sound like more fun." The Joker walked back over to Robert and reeled back before swinging his fist right into her father's jaw.

"No!" Angela shouted as he reeled back for another swing, and then another. She watched as her father got knocked around like a rag doll and blood fell from his busted lip. "Please," she cried, "leave him alone! You don't have to do this."

The Joker laughed maniacally as he beat the consciousness out of her father. When he finally stopped Robert was hardly standing on his own, just swaying in place as the Joker's lackey held him up.

At this point Angela was shaking her head back and forth in disbelief. "This isn't happening," she said trying to bring herself back to reality. "This isn't real. None of this is real. It's all in my head. You're not real!" She shouted at the Joker.

On the outside of Angela's Fear induced delusion, the Scarecrow stood once more from his perch. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The point where she either broke away from her fear and released herself from this nightmare, or the point where she became stuck in a vicious cycle of reliving her fear over and over again until her heart gave out. Either path she took would satisfy him. Either way, he would hear her scream.

He grabbed her wrist and felt her pulse racing beneath his finger tips. If he were a cat he would have purred in satisfaction. She couldn't lie to him anymore. This was her fear and it was real. He knew the signs. The sweat on her brow, her tense muscles, her eyes wide open - staring at a world he couldn't see. Her pupils were dilated and she was trembling visibly. The Scarecrow was giddy with the anticipation of hearing her screams finally released, and with the wonder of weather she would come out of this cured of her fear.

In her nightmare the Joker turned back to her, finally giving his attention after hearing what she said. "Not real, huh?" He pressed his hands on his chest and then moved up to touch his face. He lightly slapped his cheeks. "Ha! Feels pretty real to me. You really think I'm not real?"

"No, you're not, none of this is," she said quietly as she trembled in the thugs hold.

She looked at her father, feeling so horribly for what had happened to him. He had enough consciousness left to look up at her as tears fell from her eyes. He gave her a warm smile and said, "Don't be afraid, Angela. Fight."

Angela's heart broke at the sight of her father like this. She couldn't go on like this. Watching him in pain before his last moments sent her mind on a slow spiral of fear driven madness. She was so afraid to see him like this.

The Joker chuckled once more. "If I'm not real, then I guess I can do this," He said as he turned on his heel to face her father while pulling a revolver from his breast pocket. Before Angela could even register what was happening, a loud band echoed through the aviary and her father fell limp to the floor.

She couldn't stop herself from what she did next. Her muscles tensed up like a bow string, her heart pounded in her chest, and before she could do anything else a blood curdling scream escaped from her lungs. She cried out over and over as tears streamed down her face.

"No, No, No, please no," she cried. "This isn't happening. Make it stop. Get me out of here." She pleaded over and over again as her mind began to reel into insanity.

In the outside world the Scarecrow filled the room with giddy laughter. "Finally," he sighed. He watched in awe as Angela screamed and pleaded to be released from her nightmare, but he couldn't help her. She would have to do this on her own, or die from a fear induced heart attack, as the toxin would only serve to amplify her emotions.

Angela broke down, and as she did the world around her began to move in slow motion. She imagined dying like this, with fear filling her until her heart gave out. This nightmare of terror felt as if it would go on forever. She looked over to her father's body on the ground and tried to pull forward the last words he had told her. Don't be afraid. Fight.

The memory of his words hit her like lightning running down her spine. Her screams of terror turned into a growl of rage as she squirmed her way out of the thug's hold and hurdled forward straight for the Joker as he stood laughing.

Not only did she do this in her nightmare, but she reacted in the physical world as well. She lunged at the Scarecrow from her spot on the floor. He hadn't reacted quickly enough as he didn't think she would reach this stage of the hallucination so quickly.

They toppled over onto the ground and she sat astride him. At the first chance she got she threw her fist towards his head. He quickly dodged the blow and her fist flew into the tile beneath them. She used the pain of the blow to fuel her anger as she struck out again without missing this time.

Her fist caught the side of his head and he quickly snatched her fist from the air as she went to deliver a third strike. The Scarecrow quickly pulled a reversal so that he was above her this time.

Angela cried out as her back hit the cold tile and she saw the Joker above her. He pinned her hands over her head and once again she felt helpless. "No," she shouted, "you can't control me any more."

"Tell me what you're afraid of, Angela," the Joker said, except it wasn't his voice that she heard. It was cold, and metallic and it echoed through her senses. It sent a chill through her but she struggled to fight the fear that was trying to burrow deep into her once more. "Tell me, Angela!" He shouted as he tightened his grip around her wrists. She cried out in pain.

"Everything!" she cried as she struggled to break free. "I'm afraid of everything. The Joker, death, life, moving on without my father. The scarecrow. It all scares me to death." Tears rolled from her eyes as she listed the things she feared most.

"I don't want to be afraid anymore," she said as she tried to calm her breathing, trying to find peace within herself even though her mind was screaming that she should be running. Every nerve in her body lit up, telling her that she couldn't win, that she should be afraid and just give up.

She combated with the fear inside herself. Fight. She said to herself over and over. Don't be afraid. Fight. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments in an attempt to find the calm within the raging storm.

She slowly opened her eyes again and saw that she was no longer in Arkham. She was back in the Scarecrow's lab. Her mind suddenly seemed clearer than it had ever been. When she met his eyes behind the mask he saw the clarity there, but it caught him so off guard that he didn't have time to react when she spoke again.

"I'll never be afraid again," she said right before bringing her knee up to land a blow to his stomach. He fell off of her from the jolt of pain and had to react quickly to block the next swing she took at him. "I'm not afraid of you, or anyone, or anything anymore," she shouted as she swung again and again.

The Scarecrow was knocked back by several punches that she had landed on him. Before she could get the upper hand again he quickly pulled a syringe from his pocket and stuck her with it. She gasped at the pain and fell back as she suddenly felt the symptoms of a tranquilizer take effect.

Jonathan Crane took off the mask of the Scarecrow and took a moment to catch his breath. He stood and went to a drawer to grab a spare pair of glasses and slowly walked back over to his patient. He grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse. Steady as ever. He scooped her up off of the ground and quietly walked out of the lab.

In the main room Edward Nigma sat once again at his computer screens, clacking away at his keyboard. When he heard the lab door open he turned to look at Jonathan with Angela in his arms.

"I take it that went well," he said, uncharacteristically quiet, "considering she looks like she's still alive and you look like you took a beating."

Jonathan gave him a scowl before responding. "It did. Now quiet, Edward. She'll be needing her rest." And with that he continued on into the room where the cots were.

He sighed at the sight of the shambles the room had become from their altercation before the toxin. He gently set her down on the floor before going to turn one of the cots right-side-up. He picked her back up and placed her on the cot. He grabbed one of the blankets and gently covered her.

Jonathan sat on the ground next to her and watched as she slept. She looked disheveled, for sure, but he felt that she looked more at peace than he had ever seen her. He knew the death or loss of a parent was a difficult thing to deal with. He couldn't help but feel proud that one of his experiments had finally gone right. He had helped her in dealing with her fear. Though he knew she would be mad, he couldn't wait to speak to her again and discover just what his toxin had revealed to her.

He gently brushed the hair away that had fallen onto her face as he spoke tenderly to her. "Sweet dreams, my dear." And with that he turned off the lights and walked quietly out of the room.


	19. Chapter 19

A throbbing, agonizing head ache. That's what Angela awoke to. It felt like the worst hangover she had ever had in her entire life. She was thankful that the room she awoke in was dark and quiet. She rolled to a sitting position and the room spun, making her sick to her stomach.

She stood and ran to the bathroom, quickly kneeling over the toilet to expel the contents of her stomach. She retched once more before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She gasped for breath from the agonizing pain of her splitting head ache.

"An unfortunate effect of the toxin," she heard someone say from the doorway of the bathroom. She turned to see that it was the Riddler.

Angela leaned her head on the toilet seat with an exasperated sigh - despite what germs may have laid there with her. "Did he send you?" She asked.

"No," Edward responded. "He actually told me to stay away from you, but I heard you get up and he's busy in his lab at the moment." He watched her for a moment as her body shook as she leaned over the toilet. "I thought you might need these," he said and walked over to her with a bottle of water and some aspirin.

She looked at him hesitantly before grabbing the items from him. "Thank you, Mr. Nigma," she said quietly.

His lips quirked up in a smile. "You can call me Edward, or Eddie if you like." He watched as she nodded in response. "I should get back to my work. He'll probably be out soon." He turned on his heel and went to exit the bathroom before he heard her call back to him.

"Edward," she said, as If trying out the word, "are you afraid of him too?"

He stopped at the doorway and chuckled to himself. "Not at all. I trust Jonathan whole heartedly. Sure he can be a bit overly enthusiastic about his work at times, but he's never done wrong by me. It's all for a purpose, believe me," and with that he brusquely walked back to his work.

Angela shook as she attempted not to throw up again after taking the medication. After a few slow breaths she stood from the toilet and staggered back into the room to find a change of clothes in her bag. She brought her things back to the bathroom and turned on the water in the small shower.

When she stepped in she was relieved to find that the water was warm. She let the warmth wash over her and sooth her head ache. Her tense muscles slowly relaxed and she began to feel some semblance of normalcy as the aspirin she took began to kick in.

As Angela washed up she took inventory of the various bruises and small scrapes that covered her skin. She tried to remember the details of the previous night. All she could really remember was the initial burst of the toxin, the way it made her heart race like mad in her chest. She remembered her father as well. She remembered seeing him savagely attacked and brought down by the Joker.

For the first time in Angela's recent memory of him, she did not cry at the thought of his death. She stood under the water feeling numb. She didn't move, couldn't feel. It was as if her entire body was under the influence of novocain. It wasn't until the water ran cold that she realized how long she had been standing there.

She shut off the water and got out, quickly trying to get back into warm clothes. She wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror and stared at herself as if looking at a stranger. She looked paler than she last remembered herself, and a bit rougher around the edges. She brushed her hair back in its usual style and looked into her own eyes once more before leaving the bathroom.

She looked up to see that Jonathan was sitting on her cot, patiently waiting for her to finish up and come out. He looked her over with his pale eyes and a soft smile played at his lips as he took her in. Angela stared back numbly under the gaze of his cold eyes.

"Now, now," he said, not missing a beat as he noticed how tense her muscles became at the sight of him. "No need to shy away from me, Angela. Come closer. Let me have a good look at you."

Angela cautiously stepped closer. Once she was standing a comfortable distance from him she stopped and awkwardly waited for his next response.

"Sit," he commanded with no room for argument. She sat at the other end of the cot and looked up at him with a cold look in her eyes.

"What am I still doing here?" she asked with malice in her voice. "You've done what you wanted, had your fill of fun. Now let me go."

Jonathan sighed. "You are magnificent, Angela. Truly. It's hard to believe that, after all we've been through, you think I would just toss you aside like an old toy."

Angela huffed in exasperation. "Then tell me what I'm doing here."

"I've told you before. I need you, and seeing as how you've made an agreement to work for me, I don't quite understand what you're issue is with that."

Angela stared back and waited for him to continue.

"You've resisted my requests time and time again. What happened to that excitement I saw in you when we gassed Luthor's ritzy party? I want to see more of that from you," he said with excitement in his eyes as he leaned closers to her. "I want to see that savage, fearless side of you again. You didn't shy away from me or my methods in that moment. You weren't thinking about the consequences. I want to share that with you again."

Angela felt overwhelmed. She looked down at the ground as tears slowly slid down her cheeks. "I don't want to feel like this anymore," she spoke quietly, so her voice wouldn't waver. "I don't want to be the victim anymore. I know I said I wasn't going to be afraid anymore, but I still feel it. I feel like such a coward, like a hopeless damsel."

Jonathan was startled for a moment at her sudden state of vulnerability. After a second of thought he discovered this to be the breakthrough he had been seeking from her.

"Hush now," Jonathan murdered as she calmed slightly and wiped the tears from her eyes. "You don't have to be the victim anymore, my dear," he told her in a tone that was dripping with dark, sweet promises. "I can teach you. Just as you said last night, you'll never fear anything again."

Angela turned rigid at the thought of the previous nights events. She gripped the metal edge of the cot so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her face twisted as if she were trying to push the memories as far back as she could, but Jonathan was having none of that. "Tell me about your experience with the toxin," he said. She brought her feet up on the bed and curled into herself. Jonathan watched her curiously as she took a few slow breaths to try and calm herself. "Take all the time you need," he said in a tone so gentle she wondered if the sound had really come from him.

Angela swallowed hard, her throat feeling taut and dry. "I…" she began, but clamped her mouth shut once more. Her face twisted yet again into a grimace, as if she couldn't find the strength within herself to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

She took a deep breath and began again. "I can't remember everything clearly," she told him, "but I remember being in Arkham. I saw him, my father. It was right before…" Her voice trailed off into a whisper. "That monster was there too," she continued after a moment. "The Joker. I watched as he beat my father over and over again, and then he…" her voice cracked and she covered her face with her hands, gently rocking back and forth on the cot as a sob escaped her.

Jonathan grabbed her wrists and gently pulled her hands from her face. He placed his palms in hers and gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me," he said softly, like a doctor to his patient. "You're still here, Angela. You're not there anymore, you're not alone. You don't have to be afraid."

The shock of his kindness silenced her grief. She had never known him to be so kind. She had never seen this side of him. Angela looked into his eyes and didn't see the feigned concern that she had been expecting. For once, he was letting down his cold mask and letting her in.

She took another deep breath and held on tightly to his hands for the support that she desperately needed, regardless that it was coming from him. "He killed him," she whispered. "I stood there and watched as the Joker killed my father. There was nothing I could do." More tears escaped her eyes and Jonathan leaned in to listen as she continued.

"It made me sick," she spoke as her voice shook, "and I lost all control. I screamed and screamed, and I felt like I was reliving the nightmare again and again."

"What broke you out of it?" Jonathan asked.

She thought for a moment, trying to recall the reasoning during her fear induced state. "It was something my father said, right before it happened. He said 'don't be afraid, fight.'" With those words swimming around in her head more sobs escaped her. "He didn't deserve it," she cried. " My father was a good man. He didn't deserve that kind of death. He was alone when it really happened, if only I were there."

"But don't you see, Angela," Jonathan said as he pulled a hand away from hers to wipe the tears from her cheeks, "even if you had been there, there's nothing you could have done to save him. You don't have to feel responsible for his death any longer, the toxin proved that."

Her tears slowed as she thought on his words. Her warm brown eyes looked up to meet his and he looked back at her, curious about the look she gave him. "What is it?" He asked.

"Why are you like this?" She pondered aloud.

His brow rose in curiosity, caught off guard by a question he hadn't heard asked in such a way. "What do you mean?"

She pulled her hands from him and wiped the rest of her tears away before elaborating. "One moment you're sharp, and cold, and you won't let me in. You're cruel and sadistic, and then there are times like this, where you show me compassion. You act as if you actually care. I never know if I should hide from you, or let you in. You tore through my life like a hurricane, without invitation and without pause."

Jonathan took in her expression. In her eyes, he saw fear, but it wasn't a fear of him. It was a fear of being hurt emotionally. For the first time in a long time, he felt remorse for the pain he had brought her. Necessary as it was to get them to this point, he wished she didn't have to suffer as much as she did.

Jonathan sighed, and thought for a moment about what explanation he could possibly give her.

"There are some qualities–some incorporate things,  
That have a double life, which thus is made  
A type of that twin entity which springs  
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade."

He quoted Poe quietly to her. She tilted her head to the side, showing that she didn't quite catch his meaning. Jonathan sighed once more and continued, "There is a duality to all things, my dear. Some more drastic a difference than others, but it's a part of who I am. I want you to believe that I care for you, Angela, but there are times where I believe it is in our best interest for me to be cruel. I think you'll learn to understand my actions some day," and with that, the wall rose back up. His somber expression changed to its usual mask of indifference as he stood from the cot.

Angela looked up at him, trying to search his eyes for anything else she could possibly get out of him, but it was impossible. His mask was impenetrable, and she only ever saw what he wanted her to see. "What am I supposed to do now?" She asked.

Jonathan shrugged as he straightened out his clothes. "As long as you don't interrupt my work, I don't care what you do with your time here. I'll seek you out when I need you," and without another word he left the room.

Angela flopped down on the cot, staring up at concrete ceiling, wondering what the hell life had in store for her next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Jonathan references in this chapter is "Silence" a sonnet by Edgar Allen Poe.


	20. Chapter 20

Edward sat at his computer, staring up at the green screens and clacking away at the keyboard as he typed the code for his latest project. He was fully immersed in his work. To his own surprise, he hadn't spoken a single word in the past hour, even as Jonathan passed in and out of his work space. He was more focused than he had been in some time, and was feeling quite proud of himself, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, that focus was broken when the young woman they had been keeping poked her head out of the other room and quietly stared him down until he looked her way.

"What is it?" He sighed as he removed his hands from the keyboard, finally realizing how sore his fingers had become. He yawned as he stretched his hands and turned to face her.

Angela shyly stepped out of the room revealing the laptop that was in her hands. "I just need help singing onto your strangely named wifi," she said quietly. The only network in range was named Mordread's blight.

Edward smiled at the perfect opportunity she presented him with.

"I was found in a lake, but stuck in stone,

So mighty that others I have outshone

Helping to create a future country,

A timeless symbol, or just a story?"

He stood from his chair and stretched before striding over to her, a charming smile plastered on his face. He leaned on the wall next to her and watched to see if her tiny brain could figure this one out.

Angela hid herself behind the open screen of her laptop, knowing that her face was probably flushed at the proximity of this strangely confident man. She opened her settings and typed in what she believed to be the answer to his riddle.

Excalibur

Her laptop connected and she smiled at her ability to get the answer on the first try. She gave a quick "thank you," and turned to go back into the room, but he was still standing there. She moved to go around him but he quickly caught her by the arm and pushed her back to the wall. Not roughly, but with enough purpose to keep her in place.

Angela looked up at him a bit startled. She wasn't short by any means. She actually felt that she was very average in height, but she felt tiny around these men who towered over her. He was at least six feet tall, if not taller. As was Jonathan.

"Excuse me, Mister Nigma. I'd like to get back to my studies," she told him while holding a steady gaze.

"How did you get that so easily?" He asked as the charming smile slid from his face. "It shouldn't have been so easy."

"Well it wasn't very difficult if you know enough about Arthurian legend."

Edward scowled and grabbed the laptop from her hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked as he brought her laptop over to one of his desks and grabbed a small screwdriver. His hands moved deftly over the device as he popped it open, revealing the guts of the machine.

Edward chuckled aloud at the question. "You're more foolish than you let on if you think Jon would want you to have free range of the entire internet. One little email calling for help and our operation is blown? No chance in hell."

"So then what are you doing?" She asked once more.

"I'm installing a chip that will allow us to monitor your activity, obviously," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"But wouldn't people question how I'm accessing the Internet to participate in my online courses anyway?"

"Of course they will, but this is also going to make your system untraceable. So hand in your essays and what have you, and we'll be fine. They'll know you're missing, but at least they'll know you're safe."

Safe, she wasn't so sure she believed that she was safe. Not dead yet was a bit more accurate. Safe would have been if she were back in her apartment, with the heating, electricity, water bill, and rent fully paid. Safe would have been if there was food in her fridge and a respectable job to go to every day. She wasn't so sure that safe meant that she got her school work done on time.

"Here ya go," he said as he snapped her laptop shut and passed it to her.

"Thank you, Edward," she said quietly as she was about to go back into the room, but something in his expression kept her pinned there. "What is it?"

He scratched his chin for a moment as he looked at her contemplatively. Without saying anything he stood from his chair once more and circled around her as he looked her up and down.

She stood frozen, not because she was afraid, but because it was quite an uncomfortable feeling to be sized up so randomly. "What is it?" She asked once more.

"I don't understand what he sees in you," he wondered as he stopped to face her again, "and that's hard for me to admit, considering there's hardly a mystery that gets past my brilliant mind."

Angela had to resist the urge to roll her eyes as he stroked his own ego. "To be quite honest, I don't get it either. I wish he didn't have any interest in me though. It would have saved me a lot of trouble."

"Hmm, do you mind if I pick your brain for a moment?"

"uhh, sure," she said with a shrug.

"Riddle me this!

You might think you know me,

but that's where you're wrong.

For many alike have pondered me long.

My secret is simple, but locked up tight.

You hold the key, it is in your sight.

What am I?"

Angela stood in contemplation for a moment. She thought of each phrase over and over as the Riddler stood patiently. Then finally, the answer came to her. "It's a riddle," she said triumphantly. "I mean the answer to your riddle is riddle. Of course what you said is a riddle," she said quickly and hoped he would interject as she began to stumble over her words.

"Well done, Miss Stirling. That one took you some time though, and it was so simple! You may be well read enough to understand Arthurian legend, but you're no puzzle master. Not by a long shot!" Edward chuckled at her inconsequential knowledge.

Angela felt her face redden at the insult and quickly turned to go back into the room, slamming the door behind her. She plopped down on her cot and snapped open her laptop and books. It took her a moment to focus as she got over her frustration.

She hated feeling stupid because she knew she wasn't. "Stupid criminals," she grumbled as she typed her notes into her computer, angrily pressing down each key. While she worked she didn't dare think to divert from any web pages that were deemed necessary to her studies. She knew doing so would only result in some form of reprimand from her captors.

She worked tirelessly on her studies, considering she was a bit behind on some of her work. Then came her essay. She got to a point where the screen became a blur to her as she began to zone out. She couldn't think of a way to continue and she was nearly done.

When she finally snapped out of her screen induced hypnosis, she snapped her laptop shut on the thought that she was better off thinking of something else and coming back to it with a fresh mind. She stretched, not realizing how sore she was from sitting on the thin cot for so long. She paced back and forth in the long room but found that eventually she would go mad if she paced like a caged animal. Pacing just reminded her of how stuck she was here, and she didn't want to feel stuck, especially since it hadn't even been much more than 24 hours so far.

Angela decided that if she was going to be imprisoned, she would at least give herself the same opportunities for physical activity that prisoners were given. She found that it was easy to focus on nothing but the pain of her muscles. It was practically therapeutic. That is, until the door to the room swung open.

Jonathan stepped in looking mildly surprised as she stopped her movement and settled into a resting potion on her stomach. She watched him closely as he closed the door behind him.

"Please, don't stop on my account," he said as he pulled a notebook from his pocket and revised his notes. Angela continued her actions as he stepped further into the room.

"Your form is all wrong," he said as he walked past her and kicked her arm out from underneath her.

She hit the ground with a small "oof" and quickly sat up to rub her sore cheek. "You're a bastard," she grumbled as he chuckled at her discomfort.

"I never claimed that I wasn't." He sat down on his cot and thumbed through his notes.

"Did you come in here just to torture me some more?"

"No," he said with much disinterest. "I came in here because Edward informed me that there was a bit of inactivity from your laptop, and I figured you were hungry." He reached into his pocket and tossed a snack bar into her lap without even glancing at her. He was so immersed in his notes.

"I'm not really hungry," she said as she tossed the food back to him and got back into her stance for push ups. She didn't look up as she heard his book snap shut and he walked over to stand in front of her. However, he gained her attention when he got down on the ground in front of her and mimicked her stance like a mirror.

"Do you see what's wrong with the form here," he said as he followed her movements at each repetition. She looked up to meet his gaze as sweat dripped down her brow. She huffed out her breaths as she took in the sight of him.

Angela felt like an amateur. Sure she had been working out for longer than he had, but his movements were so fluid. Here she was, gasping for breath, while he was hardly putting in effort. Her eyes wandered to his arms as she observed the wiry muscle that covered his bone-thin frame. Though he was thin, she was sure that he was still as lethal as any of his toxins.

When she finally looked back into his eyes she noticed the small grin on his thin lips. He 'tsk'ed and waggled a finger in front of her face, continuing his repetitions on one arm. "Don't go getting distracted now, child."

Angela huffed and settled into resting position. "Fine. How about instead of showing off, you show me the right way to do it."

"I thought you'd never ask," he said with a sardonic smile. "Your hand placement is too far outwards," he emphasized this by grabbing her hands and placing them closer together. "They should only go a little further out than your shoulders. Now lift."

Angela lifted her weight off the ground and found the motion to be much easier. "Isn't the whole point supposed to be that it's difficult? This feels easier."

Jonathan stood from his spot and chuckled. "Not done yet," he said as he observed her form from a side view. "What you were doing was taxing, but destructive. What I teach you will build muscle, not damage it."

Angela was startled as she felt his hands grab her waist and pull slightly up. He felt her muscles tense up beneath his thin hands. "Relax," he said. "You were drooping. I'm just adjusting your posture."

He felt her muscles relax beneath his fingers and he stood straight again to observe his work. "Feet shoulder width apart as well," he advised.

She followed his instruction and felt the distribution of her weight even out.

"And tighten your core." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked her over once more before deciding he was satisfied with her posture. "Now lower yourself back down until your chest reaches the floor, and then come back up." She did as she was told - for once, he thought.

Angela repeated the motion over and over as he got down in front of her and mimicked her motions once again. After numerous repetitions her breathing became ragged and her arms began to wobble, but she kept eye contact with him the entire time, feeling as though she was in competition. The more difficult her breathing became, the more she felt like she was drowning in the ice cold depths of his eyes.

Suddenly her arms collapsed from beneath her and she knew she was done. She rolled over onto her back and took in heavy breaths. He sat up and looked down on her as she stared upwards at the ceiling. She register him grab her wrist to check her pulse but did nothing to pull away from him. She was too tired to feel like testing his temper.

Jonathan got up from his spot on the ground and went over to jot a note in his book.

Angela slowly sat up and watched as he scribbled. "Are you keeping notes on me?"

"Merely making an observation on the differences of fear and exercise and their effects on the heart rate," he muttered as he continued his notation. "And you really should eat," he said as he tossed the snack bar back at her once again.

"Stop throwing this at me," she growled as she chucked it at him, hitting him squarely in the side of the head.

Jonathan took a deep breath before snapping his book shut again and slowly turning towards her. He let her see the storm brewing behind his eyes and gave her a chance to explain herself.

"Sorry," she said tersely and not entirely sincere as she stood and dusted herself off. "I'm just not very hungry." It was an honest answer, even if it wasn't the one he wanted to hear. She sat on her cot and opened her laptop once more.

Jonathan stood and walked over to her, slamming her laptop shut as he sat on the opposite side of her. His fingers splayed out over the casing of her computer like a spider ready to strike. "I understand you are under stress Angela, but you must eat."

"Why is this even a topic of conversation?" Her voice began to rise in an argumentative manner. "Why do you even care?"

"I'm just trying to look out for your well being," he said calmly. "What kind of a host would I be if I didn't keep my guest well fed." Every word out of his mouth was calmly controlled, but she read his body language completely differently. His muscles were tense and ready to strike at any moment.

"I know what you're doing," she growled. "You're trying to act calm to make me look like the irrational one."

"I think you're being paranoid, Angela," he said in that annoyingly calm and cool tone yet again, knowing that it would press her buttons.

"Just stop. Go away and work on your stupid experiments and write you're stupid notes. Just leave me…"

Angela gasped as he finally struck and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her over the cot. He stood with her in hand and nearly lifted her off the ground as he pressed her against the wall.

She watched as his eyes turned that stormy gray as he pressed his hand around her neck, not to choke, but to hold her in place.

"I won't scream for you again," she bit out.

"Oh, you will," he said with quiet rage, "But only when I desire it. Right now, this is all I want." He held the now unwrapped food in front of her. "Eat," he commanded.

Angela held his gaze as she allowed her rage to seethe through her eyes. On any other man her withering look would have driven them away instantly. But Jonathan Crane was simply not any other man.

She kept her eyes on him as she slowly opened her mouth to accept the food. His eyes flicked down to watch as her soft lips parted, but he did not make a single move. Angela kept her gaze controlled as his eyes nearly glazed over. She licked her lips, slowly, and with purpose. She knew now that she had more control over him than she ever thought she could.

It had been some time, but she finally had him hypnotized again. Just as she did that time in her living room. Once again, Jonathan had let his control slip.

"Birds of a feather flock together,

And so will pigs and swine;

Rats and mice will have their choice,

And so will I have mine."

He let the words flow quietly, no louder than an exhale of breath. He kept his gaze on her lips, and suddenly their world's came crashing down on one another.

Jonathan leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. It was the second time it had happened, but she found that she was still surprised at the action. Angela stood frozen, but at least this time she didn't run. Not that she could. She was still pinned to the wall with his hand around her neck.

She hated him, and somehow, at the same time craved this contact with him. She didn't know if it was because of the tension of the single thread that pulled them together, or because of her lack of contact with anyone at all since she had lost her job - but she knew she needed it. Even though her arms were numb from the work, out she threw them around him and wove her fingers into his untamed hair.

Angela deepened the kiss and Jonathan responded in kind as he removed his hand from her neck and pulled her closer to him by her waist. He wanted to feel her warmth radiate into him. He held her so close and desperately that it was almost crushing.

The only words that ran through his mind were soft, warm, and closer, please, closer. Suddenly, that pleasant train of thought was cut devastatingly short with the sound of the room door swinging open.

Edward stepped into the room and instantly dropped whatever he was holding with a loud clatter. Jonathan's eyes snapped open at the sound.

"Oh crap," Edward mumbled as he stared at the entwined pair in shock.

Jonathan had a sudden realization of the situation he was in and quickly shoved Angela away with a scathing look. "Foul witch," he growled as Angela looked back at him in shock. "Don't you dare look so innocent when you know exactly what you've done. You're no better than that Poison Ivy, luring men into your deceitful arms." He quickly snatched up his notes from his bed and moved as fast as possible to leave the room.

He paused at the door and turned to Edward. "Don't trust this one," he said, pointing to Angela without even glancing her way. "She'll bring you down to the depths like the siren she is," and with that he slammed the door behind him.

Edward slowly turned to Angela, a look of dumbfounded surprise still on his face, and asked "What the hell was all that about?"

"I… I'm not really sure." She looked down and realized that the snack bar had fallen to the floor at some point during their interaction. She slowly reached down to pick it up and sat on her cot, still dazed as she took the first bite.


	21. Chapter 21

Commissioner James Gordon waited on the rooftop of the G.C.P.D. as his glasses fogged over with every exhale of his cigarette. He looked out over his town and wondered how things had gotten so insane. With the Joker gone the rate of crime had certainly decreased, but that didn't mean there wasn't still a band of murderous criminals scrambling over each other to get to the top.

His fingers trembled as the bite of the winter air ran through him. A cold winter never boded well for Gotham. The cold only helped to drive the lunatics on the streets more insane, more desperate. Gordon turned as he heard a snap of fabric in the wind. Batman stood at the corner of the rooftop, waiting for his old friend to tell him why he was signaled here.

"We've got a couple problems going on," Gordon stated. The Bat only nodded and waited for him to continue. "We've seen a few armed robberies in the past few days, all signs point to Cobblepot, but no one's heard any word about him in some time. We could use your help."

"I'll see what I can dig up," Batman said gruffly. He turned to leave but he heard the commissioner begin to speak once more.

"Any word on the Scarecrow and that Stirling girl?" Gordon asked as he flicked his dead cigarette butt into the wind.

Batman thought about his past few nights of investigation. He had gone to check on Angela Stirling's apartment the same night as the attack on Luthor's mansion. His hunch grew into more of a reality as he stepped onto her fire escape and saw that her bedroom window was wide open, thus letting the chilled winter air into the apartment.

He could see his breath in front of him as he stepped into the cold building. His cowl went into night vision mode in the dark room, and what he saw in front of him only furthered his theories. The drawers were flung open with no intention of being closed. They were nearly empty and a few things were scattered on the floor. He searched the apartment for any sign as to where she could have gone, anything that might clue him in, but he found nothing.

He knew that she was studying medical courses, but not a single text book was in sight. Wherever she had gone, he surmised that she would be there for a while. Without any idea as to where Angela Stirling had gone, the trail would go cold quickly. She, or whomever took her, didn't want her found anytime soon. With this piece of the puzzle missing, Batman would have to wait until the scarecrow made his next move, and that never boded well for Gotham.

"I searched her apartment and nothing came up," Batman told Gordon. "Whatever Scarecrow is up to, he's being careful about it. Have your men patrol the area around her apartment for the next few days and notify me if they see anything," and with that he took off into the night.

Angela stepped out of the room the next day and into the Riddler's work space. "He still hasn't come out of his lab has he?" she asked as Edward clacked away at his keyboard. When he heard her question he paused in his work to swivel around and face her.

"No, he hasn't," he said with a stern look. He didn't trust her. Not in the slightest. He hadn't understood her place in their plans yet. He didn't even understand Jonathan's interest in her. What he really didn't understand was her. Edward knew one thing, though – he hated things he couldn't understand.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, "I didn't do anything to him."

"Are you sure about that," he responded condescendingly, " Because I'm pretty sure the only time I've ever seen him that furious is when the Bat is involved. Now you're not the Bat are you?" Edward asked as he rose from his chair, cane in hand, and sauntered into Angela's personal bubble. "No, of course you're not. There's no way I would overlook it. So if you're not the Bat then riddle me this, Angie, what did you do to make Jon so mad?"

"I didn't do a damn thing to him," she said as she pressed her hand to his chest to push him out of her space. She was getting sick and tired of feeling threatened. "Don't accuse me of anything if you weren't there to see what happened."

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

Angela bit her lip in thought. "I don't think I should be talking to you about this. Something tells me he wouldn't like me gossiping. Especially not about him and especially not with you."

"Well if you told me then I may be able to help you in some way," he said with a charming smile, "besides, I don't really appreciate being left out of the loop. Secrets and riddles are my specialty."

She stared up at his blue-green eyes and searched for his motive. There was curiosity there, but no kindness. He didn't want to help her, he just wanted to know for the sake of knowing. Edward struck her as the kind of man who collected the knowledge of others for his own gain. If she told him what happened he wouldn't be using the information to help her get Jonathan out of his lab. He would be using the information to hold over her if he ever saw the opportunity.

Angela calmly crossed her arms over her chest and told him as a parent would tell a child, "No."

And like the child Edward had always been, he threw a tantrum. That charming smile slipped from his face and turned into a scowl. Angela instantly knew she was in trouble, but it still didn't give her time to react. He lifted his cane from the ground and struck her in the stomach. When she doubled over he brought the head of the cane under her chin and made her stand straight to look back at him. She stumbled back for a moment but eventually caught her footing. She had no room for movement from where she stood.

Though she was clutching her stomach from the pain, she would not show weakness. She looked back at him with a fire burning behind her dark eyes. Edward saw this and laughed.

"I'm not Jon," he said as he jabbed her shoulder with the head of his cane. "He's gone soft. He's been easy on you. I won't be." He reared back, ready to strike again.

"Wait!" she shouted as she threw her hands up in defense. She was surprised to see that he had actually taken pause. She took the opportunity to negotiate. "How about a riddle? If I get it right we drop the subject. If I get it wrong, I'll tell you what happened."

Edward relaxed his stance and laughed. "Fine," he said, "but you'll regret it

"It may only be given,

Not taken or bought,

What the sinner desires,

But the saint does not.

What is it?"

Angela stared back at him as she thought the phrase in her head over and over again, trying her best to discover the answer. Her heart was racing as she watched his expression become more impatient with each passing second. She couldn't think with him looming over her like that.

"I… I don't know," she stuttered.

"You idiot!" He shouted as he swung his cane at her.

Angela screamed as he swung and surprised even herself as she caught the cane before it struck. Unfortunately, she forgot to let go and was sent stumbling forward as he tugged back on it. She fell hard on her shoulder and cried out in pain as she rolled onto her back.

Edward didn't give her time to recuperate as he raised the cane high over his head, ready to swing down on her. "Please, don't!" she screamed as she used her arms to cover her face.

"you're an idiot, a moron!" he shouted as he struck her with each insult. "How dare you think you could beat me at my own game."

Angela screamed again as he reared back for another blow. She squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the strike. She heard the air rushing past the cane as it fell through the air, but the blow never came. There was a sudden stop in the sound of the movement. Angela slowly opened her eyes to find Jonathan standing calmly between them with Edward's cane caught in his grasp.

"That's enough, Edward," he said slowly.

"She's a moron, Jon," Edward growled, "and you know just as well as I that the stupid deserve to be punished. She couldn't even answer my riddle."

"Forgiveness, Edward. That's your answer," Jonathan replied with a cold promise in his eyes, "and you should hope for mine, lest you'd like a face full of toxin the next time you decide to throw another one of your tantrums."

Angela watched the electric tension that crackled between the two men. Edward's shoulders finally slumped as he got sick of their staring contest and he snatched his cane from Jonathan's grip.

"I don't like things being kept from me, Jon," Edward said as he punched a code into the pin pad by the elevator door. The gate creaked open and he stepped into the lift. He turned back to them as the gate began closing. "She better show her worth here soon, or I'm out."

Angela watched as Edward vanished from their sight, still dumbfounded at what had just happened. She heard Jonathan say something after a moment but it didn't register in her mind. Her heart was still racing from such a sudden attack.

"I said get up," she finally heard him say impatiently as he looked down on her. Angela got to her feet and dusted herself off, but she didn't dare to look at Jonathan, even as she felt him staring down at her. "You're hurt," he said as he noticed the gash on her shoulder from when she hit the ground.

"I'm fine," she said quietly.

"You're not. You're bleeding. Come with me," he said as he grabbed her arm and lead her toward the lab. He felt her stop at the door frame and turned to face her. "I'm not going to hurt you, Angela," he told her.

Angela knew he wasn't lying, but as much as she was ready to get rid of her fears, she just couldn't dissociate the lab from her experience with the toxin. "I know you won't, not after that, but…" she stared past him, into the room. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the chair she had been tied to when he administered the toxin.

Jonathan followed her gaze and sighed. "Don't think about that right now. I just want to help you. Will you let me do that, Angela?"

Angela took a deep breath after a moment and nodded her head. He lead her into the room and over to a small rolling stool. She took the seat and waited patiently as he rummaged through a few drawers.

During this time she took a moment to take in her surroundings. She hadn't noticed much about the massive space before, considering she had been strapped down to a chair and then was sent on a trip of hysteria. She realized that this room served as more than a lab. It had a kitchenette with a counter top stove and a deep sink. Though most of the steel counter tops were covered with the tools of the Scarecrow's trade, there was still ample space for something as simple as cooking.

Angela also took mental note of the door at the far end of the room. Whether it lead to a closet, or another room all together, she wasn't sure. She was definitely curious about it though, and Jonathan took note of this as he caught her glancing at it more than once. When he came back to her he had a washcloth and bandages in one hand and a bottle of disinfectant in the other.

He doused the cloth in disinfectant and grabbed her arm to keep her steady. Before cleaning the wound he paused for a moment and told her, "this may sting a little."

Angela braced herself for the pain and let out a small hiss as the cold material grazed her skin. Jonathan worked quickly and delicately, trying his best to make this as painless as possible for her. He watched her closely as he completed the finishing touches on the bandage. He noticed that she hadn't met his gaze the entire time.

"Why won't you look at me?" he asked.

She stared down at her hands and shrugged. "I just don't understand you. I feel like if I look into your eyes I'll be afraid of what I find there."

Jonathan gently pressed the tips of his slender fingers beneath her chin and moved her to look up at him. She finally met his gaze with her warm brown eyes and he felt her pulse racing. Angela's breathing quickened as well, but he admired how steady she kept her gaze. He leaned forward, felling as though the distance between them was unbearable. He always preferred a more intimate conversation, whether it was with her or any number of his patients.

"Do I frighten you, child?" he asked as his fingers grazed her cheek. He savored the feeling of her soft skin on his finger tips. She was so warm, so innocent – despite her experiences with tragedy and death she still held on to hope, even now.

Angela did her best to keep herself steady, but she knew he could sense the fear in her. She was shaking under the intensity of that icy gaze. She knew that if she lied to him again there would be consequences. There was no reason to lie, not this time. "I am more afraid than you could imagine, Jonathan," she said quietly as her voice wavered, "but I don't want to be."

Jonathan searched her eyes. He held her gaze for a long time before he slowly straightened out and gave her space. "Good," he said. "That's very good, my dear. You've finally given me something to work with."

He stepped away and grabbed a chair to pull up in front of her. She watched as he lounged back and settled into the seat, getting comfortable. Angela felt herself mimicking his actions and settled into her own seat. For the first time since she had come to this place she felt like she could relax. She felt as though she was finally releasing a breath she had been holding the entire time.

As she relaxed she let her eyes roam over Jonathan Crane's form. In this setting she felt like she could regard him as a human being, and not the boogeyman she had painted him to be in her head. She noticed how long and slender his limbs were, though she knew that beneath his black turtleneck was strong, lean muscle.

He looked carefree as he crossed an ankle over his knee. He clasped his spidery fingers in his lap and leaned into the back of the chair. Jonathan's messy brown hair angled around his face and accentuated his high cheek bones. And his eyes; on any other person on the planet she would have adored that glacial blue – but since they were in fact his eyes she only felt the bitter cold behind them.

Had she met him when he was younger, Angela might have regarded him as handsome. She recalled that photo she had seen of him when she had first looked into his background so long ago in her apartment. He was indeed handsome, but there was a bitterness about him now that screamed caution.

Jonathan felt her taking in his appearance. He felt flattered and insulted all at once, but he kept his mouth shut all the same. If she was going to stare him up then he felt obliged to do the same to her. He observed the clothes she wore, dark blue skinny jeans and an olive green tank top that brought out the warm tones in her skin.

He noticed, not for the first time, that he had an appreciation for her figure. If he was being honest, her body was fairly average in most regards. She was neither short nor tall, thin nor shapely, she was simple. The one feature that stood out to him, though, was the proportion of her waist to hips. Her waist was tiny in comparison to the swell of her hips which lead to long toned legs. As much as he detested to admit it, he found it appealing. He was also fond of her dark hair. Whenever she stood in the light it shined a blue-black like raven feathers, which made him hate that she wore it pushed back so often.

Jonathan noticed her shift uncomfortably as she finally realized that he was staring at her just as much as she was staring at him. "Does it bother you when I stare?" he asked with a smirk.

"You know it does," she responded with a glare.

"And why is that?"

"I don't know. It just makes me uncomfortable."

"Do you suffer from scopophobia, Angela?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "You know full well that I don't know what that means, and even if I did, I wouldn't divulge that information to you."

"Would you like to know what it means?" he asked. Angela just stayed silent as she crossed her arms and pointedly looked away from him. "Petulant child," he growled. "Why must you fight me on everything? All I ever ask is that you cooperate with me."

"I'm not a child," she snapped back at him. "I just don't want to play this game with you, because that's exactly what it is to you. You want to know my fears so you can use them to manipulate me. I know how you work and I won't play a part in it."

"Is that truly what you think? Is that what you've thought this whole time? Angela, if you had ever just listened to me for a single second then you would have known that was not my intention."

"Then what exactly is your intention?" she asked as her voice rose. "I've been here a few days now and you haven't done a damn thing but torture me, kiss me, and let me get attacked while you hide away here." Angela rose from her seat and stood directly in front of him and got in his face as she spoke. "Tell me exactly what you want, Doctor Crane, because I'm tired of playing this game."

Jonathan slowly and deliberately leaned forward, not at all intimidated by her entering his personal space. "You don't get to make demands, Angela, and you certainly don't get to ask what my intentions are," he said in a low voice. "Your entire reason for being here is to follow as I say and you have yet to listen to any direction. You deliberately act out against me. At this point a part of me wonders if you enjoy being hurt. You've gotten yourself into so much suffering that could have easily been avoided had you just listened."

Angela's expression twitched for a moment as she tried to mask her anger. "You don't want me to listen to you. You want me to obey you, as if you were some almighty entity. I'm not here to worship you, and since we're analyzing each other now, I would say you have a God complex. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to see that."

Angela saw that she was being to press buttons. She saw the crackle of the storm behind his eyes even though he kept his expression neutral as ever. She saw this and continued none the less. Despite the alarms in her head that told her not to, she placed her hands on the arms of his chair and caged him in like he had done to her before the toxin.

"You think you can hide your rage behind that neutral expression, don't you?" she continued. "Well I can see right through you, Jonathan Crane. You think you've been hiding everything from me, but I think I understand you now. You think you can possess me with your lies and with your deception, but you can't."

She saw that neutral expression begin to slip and found that she was delighted that she had finally gotten to him. Just for a moment she felt like she had gained some power over him. She felt bold, like she had been once before. She decided to land her finishing verbal blow. "You think you're powerful," she spoke as she leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing his ear, "but you are nothing, and you will never have power over me."

When she leaned back she expected to see a scowl on his face, but she was sorely mistaken. Instead, a soft smile played at his lips. He openly chuckled at the look of surprise she gave at his expression, which baffled her even more.

Jonathan gave her a sardonic smile as he spoke. "Ahh, Angela. You truly are a breath of fresh air."

She scowled back at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You are one of the very few who tries to challenge me. Most people would know better, and that's the best part, you do know better. Yet you insist on testing me. You have such a high nature of curiosity that you disregard your own well being in order to find your answers. You are both fearful and fearless at once. I admire that quality in you. That is why you're here, Angela. That fire is why I chose you to be a part of this."

She stared back at him, more questions running through her mind than answers. She sat back in her chair as she spoke. "What do you want from me? You want me to be a part of whatever this is but you haven't told me what part I have to play."

Jonathan relaxed back into his chair and smiled back at her, satisfied that she wanted to ask more questions. It showed that she had an actual interest in all of this. "I want to share my work with you," he said. "I want you to work with me in my endeavors, do as I say, stay by my side and keep me and my work protected."

She looked to him with a bit of disgust in her expression. "You want me to be the Harley to your Joker?"

Jonathan made an obvious sound of disgust. "Certainly not. I don't want to be your abuser, and I'm certainly not asking for a relationship. I'm asking for a partnership. I will teach you all that I know in exchange for your loyalty. You protect me and I shall do the same in return. I have no interest in having a relationship with you, Angela, but as most people eventually do, I find myself in need of a companion."

Angela shifted uncomfortably. "If all you want is a partner then why choose me? You could pick anyone, the Riddler for example."

"Edward has motives of his own. He doesn't share my interests in the study of fear. I need someone who is willing to work towards my own goals, even if they don't perfectly match up."

"Why me?" Angela asked again, this time more sternly.

Jonathan sighed. "I've decided to choose you, Angela, because even though you do not share my interest in fear, you have an innate sense of curiosity for things you do not understand. Something like that would help immensely in my line of work."

"What makes you so sure that my curiosity is enough to convince me to help you?" Angela asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jonathan chuckled darkly at her comment. "I've gotten you this far, haven't I?"

Angela glared at him silently and watched as he walked over to the door she had been keeping her eye on. "Do you want to know what's behind this door, Angela?" he asked with all the dark promise that he could bring in his voice. She paused in thought before slowly nodding her head. "Then come here," he directed as he kept a grasp on the handle.

She got up slowly, the strike that the Riddler had made on her stomach was starting to bruise and made it difficult to move. She stood quietly before him and waited for his next move. He stood silent and stoic for a moment as he sized her up.

"I will show you, but you have to promise me something," he told her.

Angela met his gaze and felt his need for her confirmation. What he was going to ask would not be simple, she knew this. Nothing he did was simple. If she wanted to understand this man she would have to put in effort, and something told her that all the answers she sought out were behind that door.

"What sort of promise?" She asked suspiciously, her eyes darting between him and the handle of the door. She was so eager to get her answers, and so fed up with playing this game with him.

"You must promise to keep your word on our agreement. Do not challenge me again or there will be dire consequences. Do this and I will share with you what I have offered and more. I know what you want, Angela. I can give you what you want." Jonathan asked this of her and met her with a steady gaze. He was taking in every detail of this moment, sizing her up to see if she would meet his challenge.

Angela searched his eyes, wondering exactly what making this promise would mean for her. If she was going to offer up her freedom, she had to know what she was getting in return. "How could you possibly know what I want? What do I get in return for my loyalty? What if I decide to say no?"

"You won't deny me this time, Angela," he grinned. The more she asked questions, the deeper she fell into his grasp. "You're not that difficult to read, my dear. You want so much, but I know what's most important to you." His voice lowered into a comforting lull. "Money is the first thing on your mind at the moment, that is the easy part. Then there's your education, there are many things I can teach you. And I know you want to feel safe, I can show you how to protect yourself. Let me guide you and you will have all that you've ever wanted."

Angela was taken back at how accurate his reading of her was. In the short amount of time she had known him he had been able to pick up every little detail and put together the pieces that were her hopes, her dreams, and her fears to make one coherent picture. This was his greatest skill, she realized. He was a master of the mind, and he knew that he was promising her a solution to all of the troubles and fears in her life. She took a moment to think on his promises.

Jonathan, for the first time in a long time, felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He had thought so many times before that he had gotten her in his grasp. He thought he had broken her, caged her, gotten her to see his way. He knew now that this very moment was the pinnacle of the time and patience he had spent on this woman. This would be the culmination of his efforts. If he got her to agree then this would be the final hurdle, or so he hoped. He watched attentively as she took a deep breath and he held his own.

"I'll do it," Angela said feeling braver than she had ever felt before.

She had never thought that this was how her life would play out. She had never thought that she would be someone who would be lead into an adventure she had never asked for. Not so long ago she thought she would have been finishing her degree in the major she had originally planned. She would become an engineer with her father by her side for support, but life had other plans for her.

If a criminal genius by the name of Jonathan Crane wanted to lead her down a path she hadn't foreseen then she would allow herself to be lead. She didn't want to make her own choices anymore. Doing so had only lead to her own misery. She was ready to release control, let him take her where he wanted her to go. She was ready to become just another piece in his plans.

Jonathan smiled contently back at her as mirth and excitement swelled in his chest. He had won his battle with her. Finally.

Angela watched closely as he slowly turned the handle of the door. It opened to a dimly lit corridor. The only light came from the room they stood in now. Angela's heart beat wildly in her chest with both fear and excitement as Jonathan motioned for her to follow him down the dark path.


	22. Chapter 22

Jonathan allowed Angela to pass in front of him as he closed the door behind him. The passage they entered was narrow and dark, hardly a thing could be seen besides the light that seeped in from beneath the door.

"Is there light?" Angela asked as she crept forward in the darkness. She took her time with each step, letting the walls guide her and being careful not to trip.

"Of course," Jonathan answered, "Though we would get to the switch faster if you weren't being so careful."

If she could see where he stood she would have glared in his direction. "I'm taking my time," she grumbled. "I don't want to trip."

"Believe me, there's nothing to trip on here."

Angela huffed. "How could I possibly know that? You could be leading me straight into a ditch."

Jonathan chuckled. "That's the true beauty of darkness, isn't it? Nyctophobia isn't real. It's the fear of what could be hiding in the darkness that is the truly frightening part." He emphasized his point by reaching out and letting his finger tips bush a lock of her hair.

Angela yelped and swiped the back of her neck where the hair had moved, thinking that it might have been a bug. Jonathan let out a hearty cackle, delighted in the fact that he was able to catch her off guard.

"Stop that!" She shouted as he continued to chuckle. "Are we at the switch yet?" She asked impatiently.

"We passed it ages ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?" She nearly shouted at him. If she could see where he was she would have thought about swatting his shoulder, and then she likely would have thought it best not to do so.

"I thought it was a good opportunity to catch you off guard. Gladly, I was not wrong. Wait here and I'll go back to turn it on."

Angela stayed in place and waited patiently for the lights to come on. Silence followed as Jonathan made his way back up the hall. She noted how quiet his footsteps were and wondered how a man so tall and lanky could be so light on his feet.

Next thing she knew she heard the loud 'clunk' of an electrical lever falling into place. The soft buzz of a current followed and a dim bulb on a thin wire flickered on above her. Angela jumped when she noticed Jonathan was already standing next to her when the current reached the bulb above her. He didn't try to hide his delight at frightening her.

"Quite jumpy tonight, aren't you?" He chuckled.

Angela glared back at him "Look, I'll pretend to understand the whole 'Master of Fear' thing for now, but don't play your tricks on me."

A twisted grin overtook his usually mild expression. "My, my, so touchy. I would apologize, but I just can't seem to help myself, An-ge-la," he said with emphasis on each syllable. He stared down at her like a starving animal as he took a step forward, backing her into the wall of the narrow corridor.

His eyes darkened and his voice became subtly deeper as he leaned in close to speak quietly to her. "Sometimes I just want to see that exquisite face of yours elicit just one single, beautiful scream."

Angela let out a small gasp at his words and the sight of his darkening eyes, which triggered a slight dilation of his pupils. She bit her lower lip in nervousness at his proximity and his eyes darted toward the movement. At the sight his expression changed. It was as if he was suddenly remembering something. He took a quick step back and the hunger in his eyes vanished as quickly as it had come.

"I apologize," he said quietly. "I must continue to remind myself that you are not a patient nor more than a business partner."

Angela felt as though a bucket of ice water had just come down on them. She wasn't getting used to his mood swings any time soon, that was for sure. "Yes, I suppose that would be best," she responded as she released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

After a moment they continued onward. Though the lights were on, it was still very dark in the narrow corridor and there were at least twenty feet of wire between each bulb. The end of the path was still nowhere in sight.

After a few minutes of silent walking she noticed a slight change in the scenery. The path dipped downward and the spacing of the walls became more narrow than it already was. The terrain was dustier and the walls had long cracks running along them. Angela looked back at Jonathan with a questioning glance.

"It's safe," he told her, already knowing her question without her having to say a word. "Go on."

She looked back at the path in question as she felt a breeze come in through the opening. A chill ran through her and she rubbed her bare arms to keep her skin warm. "If I had known it was going to be this cold I would have brought a jacket," she said as she turned sideways to get through the narrow opening at the end of the corridor.

"You'll live," Jonathan said flatly as they shuffled forward.

They passed through the narrow crevice and walked into a more open space. It was an empty room with concrete walls and old wooden floorboards. There was dark green paint on the walls that was chipped and peeling in several places. There was a large crack in one of the walls but all Angela could see through it was darkness, though she could hear wind whistling through the open space. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, save for a few footprints on the floor which indicated someone had been in this area - that someone obviously being Jonathan and probably Edward.

"What is this place?" she asked as she picked at the crumbling gap in the wall to see if she could get a better view of what was out there.

"This room is nothing but a gateway, we've still got quite a way to go," he said as he waited for her by an old wooden door. "Come now."

Angela followed as Jonathan opened the door. She nearly jumped back as she noticed that the floor came to a short stop before them. There were no walls in this area, only a dark cavern that was hardly lit by a single dim bulb. The floorboards were decayed and most of them had fallen into the chasm, though they continued on the other side of a large gap.

The sound of wind and water trickling down stone walls invaded her senses. Whatever this place was, it was built within a cave system. The wind indicated that some part of it lead to the outside world, but where that opening was would be impossible to tell.

"We have to jump across," she heard Jonathan say as her initial shock wore off.

Angela shook her head violently. "Oh no, not a chance in hell am I gonna risk my life to get over there. I may have been curious about what this place was but I think I've had enough. I'm going back. Thanks for the trip."

"Angela," he said in such a stern tone that she stopped in her tracks during her approach to the door they came trough. "Get back over here now. We are going across that gap and you will not fight me on the matter. We have an agreement, remember? You're going to follow my direction from now on."

"If you wanted me dead you should have just killed me in the first place!" She shouted, her fear now getting the best of her. "Don't make me try to jump across a pit just so I can fall to my death. I won't do it."

Jonathan glared back at her, the static of their mutual tension crackled through the air as neither one of them deigned to stand down on the matter. He took a deep breath and tried to settle his mind, pushing out the distaste he had for her fear. Had she been one of his patients he would have reveled in holding her over the edge of the pit and hearing her screams, but she was not his patient. She was his protégé now and he would have to have patience with her fears. He would have to teach her how to face them.

He walked over to her and settled a hand gently against her cheek, brushing away a bit of dust that had settled there on their descent. "Be not afraid," he told her as she trembled beneath his touch. "You are braver than you believe yourself to be, Angela. I know you can make it across."

Angela squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned into his gentle touch. She was afraid, but he was there offering a hand of comfort, and she would greedily take what she could from him. "Fine," she finally said softly as she opened her eyes again. "Show me how."

Jonathan allowed a smile to reach his pale eyes at her request. He was always willing to play the part of the teacher. "Very well then," he told her.

Angela watched closely as he backed up as far as he could before lunging forward in a sprint toward the edge of the chasm. His lanky limbs moved gracefully as he jumped from one of the floorboards at the very last moment. He tucked in midair and rolled forward as he reached the other side. He stood the moment his roll was complete and turned back to look at her. "See," he said, "not so bad."

"Heh, yeah. You almost make it look easy. Though to be honest you're a whole lot taller than I am. You can cover much more ground."

"Don't make excuses for yourself," he commanded. "You spend so much time worrying about the fear that holds you back that your mind becomes clouded of your true potential. Now jump across, Angela, but don't jump until the very moment you run out of ground."

Angela merely nodded her head in affirmation and braced herself for what she was about to do. She copied his motions exactly and ran at full speed towards the edge of the floorboards, but at the very last moment she faltered, her fear getting the best of her. She forced her legs to lift her off the ground, though she didn't get nearly as far as she thought she would due to her slight hesitation.

Jonathan noticed her falter and moved quickly towards his edge of the pit. He reached out with his long arms and the moment his hand connected with her he threw his weight back and pulled her with him. The momentum threw them back, but the opposing momentum of Angela's fall caused Jonathan's shoulder to pop out of place. He landed harshly on his back with Angela on top of him. If he hadn't responded as quickly as he did she would have surely slipped off the ledge and fallen to her death.

They both laid still as they took in heaving breaths. "Holy crap," Angela finally said as she caught her breath. "I can't believe I'm still alive. I told you I wouldn't have made it across."

Jonathan coldly pushed her off of him and sat up. He grunted in pain as he shifted his dislocated shoulder back into place. Angela cringed at the sound. He stretched his arm trying to comfort the soreness. He was used to being able to dislocate his joints at will, but it left a certain discomfort when they were moved out of place by force.

"You would have easily made it," he began in a scolding tone, "but you let your fear get the best of you, and you hesitated at the worst possible moment." He stood and wiped the dust from his clothes.

"Give me a break," she huffed as she got off the dusty ground. "At least I tried. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I wanted you to stop being afraid, but apparently that's proving more and more difficult for you." He said it with such disgust, as if her fear were some type of disease she carried.

Angela's mouth set in a grim line. Her emotions bordering between the she felt from him reacting so harshly, and the disappointment that she hadn't done better. After a moment of Jonathan's disapproving gaze, her emotions swayed towards the latter.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she said defeatedly. "I'll do better next time."

Even through his surprise at her apology Jonathan didn't let his disapproving look waver – not even at the fact that she addressed him by name, an action she seemed to avoid. "It would be in your best interests to do better, Angela. Don't forget Edward is going to be waiting to see if you make progress. His trust in me hangs on the line as much as his trust in you does."

Angela simply nodded and followed him as he entered the next room. This area consisted of a metal stairwell that went down several floors. Once they reached the bottom Angela exhaled and saw her breath hanging in the air.

"It's freezing," she remarked as her teeth began to chatter. "Don't you think you could have warned me about how cold it is down here? You can clearly see I'm not dressed for the occasion," she said and gestured to her tank top and jeans.

Jonathan took slightly longer than what may have been considered socially acceptable to take in her appearance. He rolled his eyes when he finally looked back at her face and noticed her angered expression. "You were so eager to see what was behind the door. I wasn't going to bother you to grab a sweater. Though since you want to complain so much, here," he said as he took off his black turtleneck. He wore a simple t-shirt beneath it.

Angela hesitated as he handed her the sweater. "Won't you be cold though?" She asked with some concern.

"Don't worry about me. Just take it. I've suffered through far worse than this."

Angela took the garment and pulled it over her head. She inhaled deeply as the fabric passed over her face and found that the scent on it was surprisingly pleasant. She picked up the warm scent of coffee and, to her surprise, she picked up notes of bourbon. The thought of Doctor Jonathan Crane sitting down to have a drink made her curious of what other vices he may have.

When she finally popped her head through the top of the sweater her hair was a bit disheveled and her long lashes fluttered as she sighed at the comfort of newfound warmth. Jonathan looked her over and gave a simple, "hmm."

"What is it?" she asked as she tousled her hair back into place.

"It suits you," he stated plainly before a devilish grin graced his lips, "and I think I quite like the idea of you wearing my clothing. You would be a sight to see in the Scarecrow's ensemble."

Angela felt unease settle in her belly at the very notion. "I'll work with you but I don't want to become you. Besides," she said with a sly grin of her own, "You said you didn't want a relationship. If someone saw me wearing your get-up in public they might get the wrong idea."

Jonathan's expression soured at her statement. "I suppose you're right. Maybe I should take my sweater back then."

Angela jumped back and hugged the sweater to herself. "No take backs," she told him. It was the only thing keeping the cold from biting at her skin – she didn't want to admit that it was also the comforting aroma that made her want to keep it.

Jonathan chuckled at her childish reaction and moved onward through another corridor. They ducked down under fallen beams and past crumbling walls. There were no more lights in this area. The only thing left to guide them was a soft green glow at the end of the corridor. Jonathan was caught off guard when he felt Angela grab onto his arm for guidance.

"If I fall I'm taking you down with me," she grumbled as they wandered through the darkness.

"I won't let you fall, Angela," he told her seriously. He wouldn't let any form of harm come to her, so long as their deal was still intact.

They wedged through a tight gap at the end of the tunnel and Angela's jaw nearly fell to the floor when the other side was revealed to her. Before them stood the crumbling streets of a small underground city. Whatever this place was before, it was nothing more than a ghost town now.

Angela's hand still gripped Jonathan's arm tightly for support. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She would have never imagined such a place could survive beneath the streets of Gotham, it was unfathomable.

Jonathan gently removed her clenched hand from his arm and spoke, trying to pull her back into reality. "Angela?" no response. He shook her shoulders lightly and said her name once more. Her eyes finally snapped back into focus as she met his intense gaze. He smiled down at her as he took in the immense curiosity in her warm eyes. There were so many questions she was ready to fire off, she just didn't know where to begin.

This was exactly what he had wanted from her - more questions gave him more opportunities to teach. He waited patiently as the gears ticked on in her mind, trying to decide what to ask first.

Finally, she spoke. "What the hell is this place?"

Jonathan grinned back at her, eager to share his world with her. "Welcome," he said with a grand gesture, "to Wonder City."


	23. Chapter 23

Angela stepped forth onto the crumbling streets of Wonder City in awe. She stared wide-eyed and mouth agape at the small shops lining the street and the small apartments above them. Her heart raced at the prospect of all of this being just below the feet of the people of Gotham. How many times had she passed over an underground city on her daily walks? Did anyone else know something like this could exist?

A chilling feeling encompassed her. She felt dizzy at the overwhelming thought that this place could exist so intact and untouched through all the years. Every shop was still filled and left the way they were intended to look. To the left of her she saw a clothing store with mannequins still posed and fully dresses in the window. Dust and grime covered the window, but the inside of the shop looked impeccable.

"Jonathan," she said as she grabbed onto his arm again, feeling too woozy to stand without support, "what… how?" She couldn't even complete a comprehensive thought.

Jonathan grinned down at her, satisfied that he had finally found something that would silence her. All it took was an entire underground city. "Quite a marvelous sight, isn't it?" He grabbed her hand from his arm and pulled her forward from the spot she seemed to be rooted to. "Come," he told her, "I'll give you the grand tour."

Angela trailed by his side silently, not even shying away from his thin fingers clasped between her own. "I've never seen anything like this," she said as he lead her forward.

"I must admit, I would be surprised if you had," he chuckled. "Angela, when I first met you, you had not even heard of the Scarecrow or Jonathan Crane. At first I thought that maybe I had over estimated my notoriety, but no. I realize now that you've lived a joyfully sheltered life, far from the underground life of Gotham," he said with a sardonic smile. "Some may even call you naïve."

"Jonathan, I was working at My Alibi when we… had our first encounter," she was going to say when we met, but didn't feel as though that suited their peculiar situation. "I think I know a thing or two about Gotham's seedy underbelly."

"Oh, do you now?"

"Of course. I've even served drinks to Two-Face, and Black Mask," she quipped with her chin up.

Jonathan chuckled at her mannerism. "You say that with such pride, as if meeting two of Gotham's rogues while they're out relaxing, and living to tell the tale, is some great achievement," he responded with malice as he rolled his eyes. "You haven't been subjected to the real dangers that crime in the city poses. You've probably never even had to deal with many of Arkham's lunatics."

Angela snatched her hand away from his, as if he'd burned her. She stared up at him, baffled. "How can you say something like that when you know exactly what I've been through?" Her face twisted in anger. "You, of all people, who made me live through it with that disgustingly horrible toxin of yours! I know what Gotham is like. You're just too vain to believe that someone had never heard of you!"

"Angela, please, calm down," he said as he tried to reach out for her.

"No," she shouted as she took a step out of his reach. "You don't get to tell me to calm down and you certainly don't get to touch me. I've had it with your ego, and with your mind games." She shook her head in disbelief at his actions.

"Angela," he said cautiously, knowing that he was skating on thin ice at this point, "I apologize."

She looked back at him, shocked and unsure that she had heard him correctly. "You… what?" was all she could say in response.

"I didn't mean it like that. I apologize," he had to admit that it was somewhat difficult for him to say when he had done something wrong.

"Then what did you mean, because as far as I can tell all you had to say was how much more you must know than me? You think I don't know what you're doing but you're wrong. You try to make me feel weak, inferior, naïve. All so that I can believe you, to make me think that I really do need your training and expertise. I can see right through you Doctor Crane." With that last scornful remark she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

Jonathan stared back in disbelief as she quickly turned down an alleyway and out of sight. He knew he should go after her, she would all to easily get lost, but he was rooted to the spot. It was rare that he would apologize for his actions, even rarer that his apology would be turned down. His disbelief steadily turned to anger as he stood in the middle of the abandoned street.

"Stupid girl," he growled as his fists clenched at his sides. He brusquely walked in the direction she had headed and found all too soon that the alley she turned down lead to far too many possible directions she could have taken.

"Angela," he shouted, knowing his voice would carry through the empty streets. "Come back. You're going to get lost, or hurt."

"I can take care of myself," she shouted back.

Angela walked through the streets of Wonder City without taking in her surroundings. At this moment she didn't care about finding her way back. Her thoughts were a jumble and she needed time to herself to sort through it all. She finally found a bench at the edge of one of the streets and sat down.

She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest as she sat on the bench. She stared unseeingly out ahead of her as she sorted through the mess in her own mind. She couldn't decide what she was more upset about – the carefree way Jonathan manipulated people, whether it was intentional or not, or the fact that thinking about the death of her father hadn't upset her as much as it really should have.

She scrubbed her hands over her face tiredly. She didn't understand why not being upset was something that had upset her. It was so perverse, so irrational, but she couldn't understand why being under the influence of that damned toxin had made her feel so numb to something that had given her such grief.

In theory, not being sad anymore was something to be celebrated, but she knew better. The loss of her fear and her grief only meant that she had lost the ability to overcome those feelings by her own means. It meant that the memory of her father would no longer bring her that tinge of what can only be described as joyful heartache. She would be unfeeling to it forever. Some would consider such a thing a blessing. She saw it as a curse.

It wasn't just a lack of fear he had left her with, it was a lack of emotion all together. She wondered if this made her like him, like Jonathan. Was the reason he lacked any fear the same reason he lacked any empathy for others? Was he just as unfeeling as she felt in this moment? She couldn't decide whether or not she should feel sorry for him if that were the case.

Angela stood from the bench and stared at a poster that had gotten her attention. It read, "Wonder City Guardians," and had the image of a robotic police force on it. She heard the light patter of footsteps come up behind her. She didn't shy away when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder.

"I don't want to continue being upset every time we speak," Angela said numbly, "but you've got to understand how difficult this is for me. You've brought me into a completely unfamiliar world, and stolen things from me that I can never get back."

Jonathan watched her closely as she stared unseeingly at the poster in front of her. "I truly didn't mean to upset you, Angela," he spoke softly. "Most of the time my manipulation is intentional, but there are times like this where I truly didn't realize what I was doing, and I'm sorry for that."

She finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were dull and didn't carry their usual life and curiosity. "You don't understand," she said. "That's not what really upset me. You've been ripping my life apart piece by piece since I met you. As shitty as it was, it was still my life. I worry that the longer I stay with you, the less likely it is I'll leave with any part of my true self left."

Jonathan stayed quiet, his pale eyes focused intently on her, and allowed her to speak her mind. She sighed before speaking again. "To be honest I'm growing used to interacting with you, with the way you manipulate. The thing I can't grow used to is this horrible numbness that's taken over ever since you used your toxin on me."

Intrigue overtook Jonathan's expression as she spoke of his toxin. "Is the fear gone?" He had to ask, had to know if this strain had worked.

"Yes," she said sharply, aggravated at the enthusiasm in his voice, "but so is the sadness, and the joy of my father's memory. I don't know if that was the intended effect but I feel nothing towards those memories anymore. You took away such an integral part of me. I feel robbed, Jonathan."

Jonathan sighed dejectedly. "Then I apologize for that too, Angela. After all, that experiment was conducted in haste. I was angry with you." He took a deep breath to ready himself for his next statement. He knew it wouldn't be easy for him to say, but it was what she needed to hear for them to build trust. "As your mentor, you have my word that I will not test on you without your consent ever again."

Angela's eyes opened wide in shock at this declaration. "You really mean that?" She asked in true disbelief.

"I do." He waited patiently as she calculated the truth of his statement in her head. He could see the gears turning in her mind as she took in his expression and body language, trying to evaluate the validity of his promise. He waited a long time before he spoke again. "Do you accept my apology, my dear?"

She kept her gaze steady on him for a moment more before nodding her head in acceptance. Jonathan smiled and offered his hand to her once more. "Then shall we continue our tour?"

"Do we have to continue holding hands?" she chuckled as the life and warmth slowly came back into her eyes.

"It would be safer for you. This place can be so dangerous. Why, the floor could fall out from under us any minute," he boldly lied, mischief glimmering in his pale eyes.

Angela rolled her eyes at his directness. "Fine," she said and took his hand in her own. "Show me the wonder that is Wonder City."

They strolled down the city streets together as Jonathan explained what he knew of the city's history. He pointed out different landmarks that he, Edward, and Jervis had discovered in their time there. He watched as Angela peered into shops and through the windows of preserved homes. He adored seeing the joy and curiosity on her face as she learned and discovered. She asked him millions of questions to which he had most of the answers to.

"Your hand is so cold," she told him at one point.

"That will happen when you're in an underground city and someone steals your sweater."

"I didn't steal it," she said as she bumped him with her shoulder. "You gave it to me, remember?"

"I don't recall giving it to you. I leant it to you. See the difference there?" He said as he bumped her back.

Angela stumbled but quickly caught herself. "Yeah, well for almost making me fall I think I should be allowed to keep it."

Jonathan gave a dark chuckle. "If keeping it is so important that you have to make up excuses, then you could have just asked."

Angela blushed. She hadn't realized that she was making such a big deal of keeping his sweater, but after all, it was warm. Not to mention she found comfort in the scent that lingered on the fabric.

"Are you really going to make me ask for it?" she said, playing along with his game.

"It would be the polite thing to do after all," he said with a sly smirk.

"Fine," she said as she made them stop in their tracks. He turned to face her as she took both of his hands in her own. He sighed as he felt the warmth of her touch. "Jonathan," she said with such sweetness in her voice that it nearly broke him, "can I please keep your sweater?" She looked up at him and fluttered her pretty lashes over her pretty brown eyes.

He stood awkwardly for a moment as he tried to gain control over the sudden dryness in his throat. After a moment he regained his confidence before leaning forward. As he spoke his voice was soft and low, "And what do I get in return?" He asked as he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

"Fine," Angela frowned as she rolled her eyes and took a step out of his reach, "You can have it back."

Jonathan watched intently is she grabbed the bottom of the sweater and began to pull it over her head. As she pulled the garment, the shirt she wore beneath it began to rise with it. Jonathan bit his lip as the soft, tan skin of her stomach was exposed as she removed the sweater. It took all of his willpower not to reach out for her.

Just as both shirts were about to rise above the swell of her chest, the under shirt fell back down into place, and Jonathan remembered how to breathe again. She smiled not so innocently at him as she held the sweater out to him.

"You can keep it," he grumbled as he looked off to the side in a not so successful attempt to hide the blush that crept onto his face. Angela grinned at her success and quickly put the sweater back on. As Jonathan continued to stare off into the distance she notice their surroundings.

Right behind Jonathan was an old, burnt down chapel. "What's this?" She said inquisitively as she stepped around him and approached the remains of the building.

Jonathan turned to see what she was asking about. "Just some burnt down church," he shrugged. "Must have happened right before they started sealing this place off. What are you doing?" He asked as she stepped through what used to be the archway of the building. "Be careful, Angela. Those rafters could fall at any moment."

"I wasn't asking about the building," she said as she began to move a few charred boards. "Help me move this," she grunted as she tried to lift a fallen beam.

Jonathan hesitantly stepped into the dilapidated remainder of the chapel and helped her move the beam. When they lifted it out of the way a large, cylindrical piece of metal was revealed to them. He stepped back as she turned it over.

"Well would you look at that," she said as she picked up the heavy piece of machinery and held it out. "It's one of those metal dudes Edward's been working on."

Jonathan chuckled at her terminology. "You mean a Wonder City Guardian?" He corrected. She simply rolled her eyes in response.

"It's eyes are still flickering," she said as she looked it over. "You think he could find some use for this? Maybe even get it working properly?"

Jonathan scratched his chin in thought. "Hmm, maybe. Though, at the very least, it would be a great way to make up for the altercation you two just went through."

Angela huffed. "As far as I'm concerned he should be the one making things up to me. He attacked me after all. Lucky for him I want to see what he can do with this, so I'll bring it back anyway."

"I'll admit, Edward can be childish at times. You'll find that it's best to try to be the adult in most situations involving him."

Angela rolled her eyes at that as she stepped out of the church. "You mean spoil him?"

"Yes," Jonathan said honestly as he followed her out. "In your case it would be best to spoil him. You don't want to be around for the temper tantrum of a child who could easily kill you. So it's in your best interests. He'll at least find you useful if you make him feel important, or superior. Just don't be stupid either."

"Fine then," she said as she held the robot head in one arm and rested it against her hip as if she were carrying a small child. "I guess this is a good place to start then. We should head back now though, this thing is pretty heavy."

Jonathan nodded in agreement and lead them back the way they came. Their walk was silent for the most part, as Angela was focused on trying to resist the temptation to ask Jonathan to carry the head of the Guardian. She wanted to be strong, and she wanted to prove that this was being delivered to Edward through her own hard work.

The silence ended when they came upon the pit that had given them trouble on their way down. Jonathan turned to Angela as she stopped abruptly, shifting the head in her arms.

"What is it?" He asked as he watched her shift uncomfortably.

"Any death but that of the pit," she muttered.

Jonathan grinned from ear to ear. "Quoting Poe will get you very far, my dear. Give me the Guardian and I'll go across first. I'll catch you just like last time."

She shifted again as she hugged the metal to here chest. "I don't want to let it go. I want to prove to Edward that I'm useful."

Jonathan crossed his arms in front of him. "Don't be unreasonable, Angela. You won't be able to prove anything if you fall to your death."

"I thought you said I could make it across as long as I wasn't afraid," she said as she gave a determined look.

"Yes, but that was before the added weight of that thing you're carrying. That, with the added fact that you very well might get scared again? There's no way I'm willing to take that kind of – Angela no!"

Jonathan was cut off as she quickly bypassed him and leapt through the air over the pit. He watched her in silent shock as she just barely cleared the edge of the gap and fell forward into a roll. It was a bit sloppy and could definitely use some work, but she made it across with herself and the Guardian in one piece.

He stared at her from across the gap, mouth agape. She dusted herself off as best as she could and turned to face him with a devilishly satisfied smile on her face. "I guess I just have a better chance at success when you disapprove of my actions," she chuckled.

Jonathan composed himself as he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You continue to surprise me, Angela. Even if it might be in the worst way possible. I made a deal to grant you my protection. Don't go putting your life in danger just because that deal exists," he told her seriously as he set his icy gaze on her.

"Oh, come on Doctor Crane," she said sweetly. "We've got a package to deliver to Mr. Nigma." With that being said, she turned to continue back to the lab as Jonathan jumped across the pit himself.

When they reached their destination Angela squinted as the harsh white light of the lab hit her eyes. It was a stark difference from the dark passage they had just taken. "Do you think Edward came back?" she asked as her eyes adjusted.

"Let's see," he told her as he opened the door to Edward's work station. He peaked out quietly and motioned for Angela to stay in the lab.

Angela waited patiently before she heard a masculine shriek sound from other room followed by the sound of Jonathan's maniacal laughter. She next heard Edward shouting "Damn you, Jon! I spilled coffee all over my desk!"

Angela laughed to herself at their antics. Jonathan opened the door to the lab and told her to come out. "Angela's brought something for you, Edward," Jonathan said as Edward was busy wiping the mess from his work station with his back turned toward them.

"What the hell is it now?" He grumbled as he stacked napkin after napkin over the spilled coffee.

"Take a look," she smiled as she held out the prize.

Edward turned and his look of agitation instantly turned to shock. He dramatically dropped the fistfuls of coffee soaked napkins he held and took the head of the Guardian from her. He cradled it gently in his arms as if he were holding a newborn baby.

The excitement that sparkled in his blue-green eyes almost made the trip worth it to Angela. "This is spectacular," he sighed and looked at her. "Do you have any idea how important this is to my work? My goodness, I could kiss you right now!"

"Don't," she and Jonathan said simultaneously, Jonathan's voice coming out a bit more harshly than her own.

Angela sat down on the ground as Edward doted on his new possession. She rested her head back on the cement wall, finally feeling the fatigue of their excursion. She felt dizziness overtake her as she rubbed her hands over her face.

Jonathan watched her closely and noticed her eyes begin to roll back before she began to fall to her side. He caught her head before it hit the ground and quickly scooped her up from her spot.

"I'm fine," she mumbled as she weakly tried to get out of his hold.

"Nonsense, Angela. You just fainted. You need rest and you haven't eaten in days. I'll send Edward to get you something to eat."

Unable to argue that logic, she ceased her struggling and rested her head against his shoulder. She fell asleep before he was even able to get her on her cot. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep as Jonathan found a blanket to cover her.


	24. Chapter 24

Angela groaned as she felt someone begin to shake her awake. She faintly heard her name being called, but promptly covered her head with her blanket to block out the light and noise.

"Angelaaaaa," she heard her name whined through the blanket, "wake uuuup. You've been asleep for 12 hours already and I got you food."

She groaned as she put her pillow over her head to block out Edward's whining. She yelped as she felt the bed shift beneath her and she was promptly deposited onto the cold, concrete floor as her cot was overturned. She heard Edward chuckle above her at the look of disbelief on her face.

"Get up, Angela. I want to celebrate on behalf of that spectacular gift you brought me, or should I say Wonderful gift?" He said as he laughed at his own pun.

Angela groaned both at the soreness in her limbs and at the horrible pun. "Give me a minute and I'll be right out. I just want to freshen up." She slowly got off the ground and grabbed her things before heading to the bathroom as Edward nodded in agreement and headed back to his work station.

She took a quick shower, still feeling the dirt and grime that stuck to her skin from her venture into wonder city. She got out and changed into her light blue pajama shorts and a cropped white tank top. She was glad for the fact that it was much warmer in the "lair", as she referred to it in her mind, than it had been in Wonder City – though she still put on a fresh pair of white socks to shield her feet from the cool concrete floors. Angela towel dried her hair, not bothering to style it as she knew she wouldn't be going out in public anytime soon.

Before walking out into Edward's room of monitors, Angela could hear music being played through a speaker. As she stepped out into the room she felt the eyes of the men she kept company with instantly fall on her. She suddenly felt a bit immodest in clothing she would usually feel comfortable in at home. That thought was quickly banished at the smell of fresh Chinese food wafting through the air. Her stomach gurgled loudly as she set eyes on the plate that was left out for her.

Jonathan was sitting quietly at the edge of the room near the door to his lab. He was dressed in a well worn pair of jeans and a gray long sleeved shirt. Edward was seated by his desk but facing the open space in the middle of the room. He hummed to the music coming through his speakers as he slurped up a noodle of lo mein. He wore a dark purple button up shirt and a pair of black slacks.

Angela snatched a pair of chopsticks from Edward's desk and promptly started stuffing her face with a mouthful of lo mein. She gave a soft "mmm" as the warm food filled her stomach.

"It's good to see you back in the world of the living, Angela," she heard Jonathan say from the chair to the left of her own.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better now. Thank you for getting me to the bed, and for all the food, of course."

"You're welcome!" Edward beamed from the chair to her right. Jonathan rolled his eyes at his companion's enthusiasm. "I even got us some drinks," Edward told her as he rose a well groomed brow.

He stood from his seat and pulled several bottles from a black plastic bag. "Take your pick! I got a variety since I didn't know what you liked."

Jonathan stood and plucked a bottle of bourbon from the table. "This one is for me, of course."

Angela looked back at him, slightly surprised at his eagerness to claim his drink, and his unwillingness to share. She turned her attention back to the arrangement of bottles as Jonathan went into his lab to grab some glasses for them. The selection included wine, vodka, rum, and tequila. She grabbed the bottle of rum from the table as Jonathan returned with glasses for them. Edward selected the vodka.

"You must be really happy with that Wonder City Guardian," she said to Edward as she took her first sip.

"Oh, absolutely," he told her enthusiastically. It was a stark difference from their altercation before and Angela felt a bit whiplashed at the disparity between his emotions. "I've already learned so much."

"I thought I was only asleep for 12 hours, how did you already find something out?" she said, confused.

"Edward is a quick learner," Jonathan quipped before Edward got a chance to get offended. He watched his glass intently as he swirled the amber liquid around, trying not to give much of his attention to either of his companions.

Angela noted his lack of interest and found it slightly off putting. Usually his eyes were constantly analyzing every expression that passed over her face. This change in his behavior was foreign to her, and to be quite honest, she couldn't decide why it bothered her so much. It was as if he were trying to avoid looking at her.

She chose to ignore Jonathan's brooding for the moment and turned towards Edward. "Wow," she said, not missing a chance to flatter her more unpredictable companion. "Tell me what you found out. I'm actually really curious about it."

"I am so glad you ask," he remarked jovially as he clasped his hands together. "These things are absolutely amazing! They've got a vast network of circuitry that surpasses anything that's been created to date. The fascinating thing is, I found out these things used to work as a sort of hive mind."

Edward stood from his seat and gestured for her to join him by the table he had the Guardian set on. She took another sip before setting her drink down and joining him. He showed her the complex circuitry and explained the purpose of each separate part. Jonathan continued to sit silently at the edge of the room.

"Can you guess what the most interesting thing about this is?" Edward asked her.

"What would that be, Mr. Riddler?" she asked back, not wanting to get it wrong and have him get angry and call her stupid.

He smiled at her eagerness to learn and rely on his expertise. "This one that you brought me, it's got a malfunction."

Angela picked up her drink again, not knowing what to expect. Surely he was upset at the fact that she had brought him a giant chunk of garbage. If it wasn't perfect then it probably wasn't good enough for him.

"It's exactly what I needed!" He shouted enthusiastically.

Angela looked relieved.

"It's the exact kind of malfunction I needed to get one of these up and running. As a unit that shares a hive mind, once one unit begins to fry it's own brains out, they all do the same. Luckily, this one was disconnected from the network. This is the only unit, probably in existence, that's still up and running. Thanks to you, I'll be able to complete my work with ease. Well, more ease than I already would have had, what with me being brilliant and all."

"Hmm," Angela thought for a moment, "and just what do you plan to do with all the information you've learned?"

"Well, I'm going to-"

"That's enough for now, Edward," Jonathan interjected as he finally gave them his attention. "You've talked Miss Stirling's ear off long enough, and besides, she hasn't earned that level of security clearance with us yet."

"Are you saying you don't trust me or something?" Angela asked as she turned to him.

"No, my dear. I'm saying it's best to keep you guessing," he said with a snide smirk, "it seems to be the only thing that keeps your attention."

Edward frowned at the fact that Jonathan cut him off. He returned to his seat and took a swig of his own drink, slightly feeling the effects of the strong alcohol on himself already. He observed his companions who seemed completely unaffected by their own beverages. He noticed that Jonathan had already finished his first and was beginning to pour another with a steady hand.

Angela had a frown of her own directed towards Jonathan as she took her seat. She disliked how open he was about manipulating her. She turned her attention back to Edward as he began to speak again.

"So Angie, since we can't talk about my amazing work, why don't you tell me about you?"

Angela gave a soft smile. "Oh, you probably wouldn't even find it that interesting," but she took notice as Jonathan leaned forward a bit in his seat, ready to hear about her life.

"Oh nonsense," Edward said as he waved his hand dismissively. "Surely it's not nearly as interesting as my life, but we'll save that for another time."

Angela chuckled and his narcissism. "Alright fine. Umm," she wasn't sure where to start. "Well, I grew up in an okay part of Gotham, thanks to my father, near monolith square. He used to worked at Arkham so it was close to work for him. My mother died when I was fairly young. I don't remember very much about her, except for the fact that my dad missed her a whole lot."

She noticed Jonathan watching her intently over the brim of his drink, but she kept her attention on Edward as she spoke. "I went to public school and then went straight to Gotham University to begin studying engineering."

"Wait," Edward said stopping her there, "you studied engineering? Jon told me you were studying medicine."

"Don't interrupt, Edward," Jonathan said coldly. "Please, do continue, Angela."

She sighed. "Well, yes. I'm currently studying medicine - or at least preliminary courses for it online - but I didn't start that until my father passed away. I never finished my degree in engineering either. It seems like ever since he died I haven't accomplished much of anything. I got a job at My Alibi, got an apartment in the Narrows, and made the stupid mistake of saving his sorry ass," she said as she pointed to Jonathan.

Jonathan simply smirked and shrugged in response.

"Hmm," Edward thought. "You're right, that wasn't that interesting." Angela laughed and rolled her eyes at that. "Except for that bit towards the end tell me more about that."

"About my apartment?" she said confused.

"Nooo," he whined, "not that. About your job. Jon, you never told me she used to be a stripper," he said with poorly hidden excitement.

Angela and Jonathan nearly choked on their drinks at the same time.

"No wonder you were so interested in bringing her here. I mean I know we've been here a while but I thought I was plenty eye candy for ya," Edward said with a wink to Jonathan.

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were about to get the worst head ache of his life. "No, you absolute idiot. She was a server, not a stripper."

"Ohhhh," he said, enlightened. " Well still. Tell me about that," he said turning back to Angela.

"There's not much to tell, I worked there for almost a year until your little buddy turned it into his own personal Wonderland."

Edward laughed openly. "Oh, you mean Jervis? Yeah, but if he didn't do that then we wouldn't have all this!" he said as he reached into his pocket and threw a wad of bills into the air, making it rain.

Angela watched and laughed as the bills fluttered through the air. It was quite obvious that Edward was now fully under the influence of his drink.

"Hey, that gives me an idea," Edward said as the last bill hit the ground.

Jonathan instantly snapped at him. "No. Edward, absolutely not. Don't you DARE ask what I think you're about to-"

"Will you dance for us?" He asked eagerly, clearly ignoring Jonathan.

Angela laughed, clutching her sides at her surprised laughter. In all honesty, she was feeling the drink herself at this point too. Jonathan was busy hiding his face in his hands from the second hand embarrassment his colleague had brought upon him.

"Edward," she started between laughs, "I told you, I was only a server."

"Yeahhhh," he said as he swayed a bit in his seat, "but I bet you learned a couple moves or two from the other girls there. Come on Angie, I'm not asking you to take anything off. We just lack entertainment, being stuck down here all the time."

"Edward, please, leave the poor girl alone," Jonathan hissed.

Angela smirked at Jonathan's discomfort. Oh, she was going to love taking advantage of that. "I'll do it," she said with a nonchalant shrug.

Edward's smile grew as Jonathan's frown deepened. "I will not be a part of this foolishness," Jon said as he started to get up.

Angela stood from her chair and turned up the dial on Edward's speakers. "What's the matter, Jon? Afraid to have a little fun?" She said with a mocking wink.

Jonathan grimaced at her, knowing full well what she was trying to do. Fine, he thought, two could play at that game.

He sunk back into his chair. Angela smirked as she finally felt in control. She directed the two men to sit towards the back of the room. She turned down the lights so she was backlit by the monitors of Edward's massive computer.

She swayed slowly in place as she got a feel for the steady rhythm of the music. It was a slow beat with a deep base. As she swayed her hips she let the music and the alcohol take over. For the first time in a long time she felt powerful, and primal. She felt hypnotic as she moved. Her body was nearly set in silhouette from the brightness of the screens behind her.

As the musician began to sing the first line she turned to them, making eye contact with each of them. First Edward, he seemed dazed, the drink clearly having an affect on him. Then she turned her attention to Jonathan who kept his focus trained on her eyes. Though he kept his expression neutral, she could tell she had some effect on him. His tell was how he somewhat nervously continued to swirl the amber liquid around in the glass he held loosely in his hand.

Angela held his gaze for a moment longer before closing her eyes and running her hands along her sides, her arms, and through her hair. She threw her head back as if the soft feeling of her skin beneath her finger tips was the most desirable thing in the world. She moved her hips from side to side as she slowly sunk down to the ground and back up again.

She noticed Edward watching her with a grin on his face, eager to finally be entertained. A devilish idea entered her mind as the chorus of the song began. She approached Edward, still keeping eye contact with Jonathan, almost daring him to make a move. Edward sat back in a relaxed position as she approached him.

"Ooh, I didn't expect to get a lap dance out of this," he said softly as she swayed in front of him.

"Shh," she told him as she crept up onto his lap. "You talk too much, Eddie."

She continued her movements as she sat straddled over his lap and glanced at Jonathan every now and then. He was watching them intently. The hand he kept his drink in was no longer holding it lightly. He held it with a deathly tight grip. Angela wondered how the glass hadn't shattered beneath his hold by now. His expression, however, remained neutral.

"Angela," Edward whispered to her so only she could hear him through the music, "I know what you're trying to do."

Angela snapped her attention to the man sat beneath her, noticing that he no longer sounded as drunk as she initially thought he was. A devilish grin laced his classically handsome face as he looked up at her surprised expression.

"You're trying to push his buttons, make him react," Edward continued, "trying to see if anything will make him become human. Am I right?"

Angela smiled back at him. "Well you're not wrong. I guess they don't call you the Prince of Puzzles for nothing."

Edward chuckled softly, taking her remark as a compliment. "I know something that will really press his buttons. He very well might snap and beat the crap out of me, but it'll be worth it."

"Sounds like a plan to me," she smiled. "Just tell me what to do."

"Oh, you just keep doing what you're doing, honey," he said as he appreciatively watched her move above him. "You're just gonna have to let me touch you. Do I have your permission?"

Angela nodded her head in agreement. She gave a soft gasp as she felt him gently place his hands on the back of her thighs before roughly pulling her closer to him so she was planted firmly over his crotch.

The moment he did this she heard Jonathan's glass shatter to the ground as he shot up from his seat and punched Edward square in the face. He knocked him out clean just as he had the time they were coming back from Luthor's party.

Angela gasped in shock at Edward's unconscious state. The music continued to play in the background as Jonathan snatched Edward's drink off the table and downed the whole thing before sitting back in his own seat. He placed the glass down and looked back at Angela expectantly.

Her brow rose in surprise at the fact that he had sat back down instead of sulking off into his lab. She slowly got up off of Edward's lap and approached Jonathan.

"Ya know," she began, "if you wanted a private show, Doctor Crane, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm not asking," he said darkly. His eyes told her it was less of a question at this point and more of a command. He sat back comfortably in his chair and looked back at her confidently now that they were rid of their company. "Dance for me, Angela."

Suddenly she felt timid again. The sudden shift in their power sent Angela's heart racing, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. A mixture of fear and excitement filled her as she began to listen for the rhythm of the music again.

As she began to sway her hips in front of him, he no longer hid behind the façade of decency. He let his gaze roam freely over every exposed bit of skin. Her shorts were immodestly short and her tank top was cropped to show off the soft skin of her stomach. It was as if she had been planning to dance for them, no, for him all along.

She began running her hands over her body once again and Jonathan found himself wondering exactly what she felt like. His longing surprised even himself. "Come closer," he said gruffly.

Angela listened without complaint and sauntered closer to him as she held his gaze. Jonathan bit back a groan as she turned away from him, giving him a good view of how short those shorts really were. In the back of his mind he remembered that she had been wearing them the same night he had first woken up in her apartment, but that didn't matter much to him now.

When she turned back around she took her time climbing up onto his lap. She noticed the change in his breathing as she straddled him. He rested his head back and closed his eyes contently as he felt the warmth of her skin through his clothing.

He let a small groan escape him as she sat firmly on his crotch. She didn't dare to move in that moment as she felt him tense up beneath her and his breathing became erratic. She watched as his eyes opened and his pupils dilated, but they didn't turn that stormy gray they usually would when he let Scarecrow take over.

These weren't the eyes of the Master of Fear, they were the eyes of Jonathan Crane, under the influence of desire – and oh, how that excited her more than anything. She was finally getting what she was looking for, a human reaction from him.

Angela slowly but surely began moving to the rhythm of the music again, a new song had come on by now. She ground her hips into him as she noticed how tightly he was holding onto the arms of the chair.

She smiled and leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "Are you afraid to touch me, Jonathan?"

He let out a shaky breath. "Utterly terrified, my dear. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?"

"Not exactly," she said with a soft laugh. "For once I wanted to hear that line about how there's nothing to fear but fear itself."

Jonathan gave a soft chuckle himself as he gently tucked a bit of hair back from her face. "Right you are, dear, but just this one time it may be wiser to be afraid." His expression sobered and he was coming back to reality. "If I touch you now there will be no going back. It's probably best we just stop here. You should get some more rest, Angela, and I should get back to my work. Edward should have never asked this of you."

"I'm glad he did, though," she spoke softly. "Now I really know you actually are human." With that being said she got up and retreated to her room.

"That's exactly what I was afraid of," he said as he got up and left to continue his research.


	25. Chapter 25

Over the next few days Angela spent most of her time consumed in her studies. When she wasn't working on handing in assignments she would sit quietly in Edward's computer room watching him work tirelessly on coding. She found the soft hum of the computers and the clacking of his keyboard comforting after a while. She felt a pang of guilt about the splotchy bruising over his nose, but he assured her that the pain had been worth it when he heard her retelling of the other nights events.

"I can't believe you got Jon to let his walls down," he had laughed with an ice pack pressed over his face. "Having you here is going to be very interesting indeed."

Though she had Edward to keep her company, she felt as though time was passing exhaustingly slow. She didn't have much to keep her occupied, so she often found herself pacing back and forth or trying to engage in some form of cardio whenever she was left alone in the room where they slept.

Angela found herself going stir crazy and her mind often drifted to imaging being able to explore Wonder City again. This, however, had been out of the question as she had hardly seen Jonathan at all over the past few days and he often kept the door to his lab locked as he worked.

"What did he bring me here for if he's just going to ignore me the entire time?" she asked Edward eventually.

"Don't forget that brining you here so soon wasn't exactly on the agenda," he replied as he turned from his monitor. "That whole event at Luthor's party is what got the ball rolling on all of this. You were supposed to be able to go home and enjoy some of that money you earned."

"Oh yeah," she sighed dejectedly as she thought of the money that was currently sitting uselessly in her duffle bag. "What's going to happen to all of my things? I can't exactly pay my rent or keep an eye on my apartment while I'm locked up down here."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Edward reassured her as he returned to his monitors. "Everything is just as you left it. No need to worry about the rent either, Jon will be taking care of that," he said before pausing for a moment again. "Though you should know that the Dark Knight Detective was snooping around your place the night we brought you here. One of my informants saw him slip in through an open window. Other than that there's hardly been any activity."

Angela looked at him curiously. "What do you mean hardly any activity? Did something else happen?"

Edward shrugged nonchalantly. "That bartender boyfriend of yours came knocking. Nothing important."

Angela's brow scrunched in frustration. "You mean Don? He's not my boyfriend, first off, and second, why didn't anyone tell me about this? When did it happen?"

Edward turned to her and gave a devilish grin that said I know something you don't know. She gave him an irritated look in return and he laughed openly. "Ya know, Angie, you're asking an awful lot of questions for someone who isn't called the Riddler."

Angela willed herself not to roll her eyes at his comment. "Come on, Eddie," she whined as she swallowed her pride in preparation to get an answer from him the only way she knew how. "I know I'm not as brilliant and well connected as you. Please, bestow your knowledge upon me," she begged as she bowed her head as a sign of respect.

Edward grinned at her flattery. "You sure know how to stroke a man's ego," he laughed. "You've hardly been here a week and you already know how to play me like a fiddle, don't you? Very well then, I'll tell you, but you've got to answer a riddle first."

Angela sighed. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen.

"Some like me hot,

Some like me cold,

Some like me mild,

Some like me bold.

What am I?"

To her own surprise, she had heard this one before, but she wasn't about to let him know that. She pretended to think for a moment and scratched her head as if she were deep in thought. "Is it coffee?" she finally answered.

"Well done, Angie!" He said excitedly and completely unaware of the fact she had already known the answer. "That barista boy came by your place the day after you gave Jon and I that saucy little show of yours," he informed her with a cocky grin.

Angela ignored his crass comment and continued to press for information. "Is he okay? Do you know what he was there for?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Who cares? It's not like that broad shouldered buffoon has anything to offer you anyway."

Angela balked at his response. "I care! He's my friend, after all."

"Bullshit!" Edward cried out. "I'm the last person you ought to take for a fool, Angela. You like him, and he likes you. Don't forget that I was the one keeping an eye on you before Jon and I brought you in. I saw you the day before I paid you a visit. I saw that little sparkle in your eye when he walked you home from the coffee shop, but that man is nothing. He'll never be anything. You could do much better than associating yourself with that moron."

Angela found herself shaking with anger at the way he spoke about Don. Don may not have been the most successful man in the world, but he was a good man, not some criminal like the two men she had been associating herself with for the past week. "You have no right to talk about him like that," she growled. "You don't know a thing about him. What does it matter to you anyway? It's my life! If I wanted to be with Don or not, why should you care?" She watched as Edward leaned back in his chair and once again gave her one of those all-knowing looks.

Sudden realization struck her and Edward lit up as the expression passed over her face. "There it is," he said excitedly. "I can practically hear the cogs turning in that puny little brain of yours! I see the lights finally flickering on. Go on, Angie, tell me what you've discovered."

"You're a bastard," she growled. "You and Jonathan are both bastards. You don't give a damn, but he does," she said as she shot a glare towards the door to the lab. "This is Jonathan's doing. Did he tell you to keep this from me?"

"Bingo!"

"But why!?"

"I think it's quite telling when someone chooses to ask about their friend, rather than ask about why the Bat himself was in their apartment. Wouldn't you agree?" he replied, his tone turning serious. "If you haven't figured it out yet, why don't you ask him yourself?"

Angela was furious. She felt played. Just when she felt as though she was starting to fit in, they pulled this on her. Why would Jonathan keep something like this from her? She didn't understand his motives, so she decided she would go straight to the source to get her answers. Edward grinned at the chaos that was about to ensue as he watched Angela rise from her seat and pound her fist against the door to Jonathan's lab.

She had every intention to keep calm and ask him what all of this was about, but the moment he opened the door and she saw his face, her rage overtook her. Edward's eyes went wide as he heard the sound of Angela slap Jonathan across the face.

"Oh hell," Edward muttered as he promptly got up from his seat and left the room. His job here was done, he wasn't about to stick around for the aftermath.

Jonathan shut his eyes and took a deep inhale and slow exhale to calm himself before he opened his eyes again. He met Angela's glare with an icy one of his own. "What, exactly, is the meaning of this, Angela?" He asked slowly.

"Don't play that game with me, Crane" she said as she jabbed a finger into his chest. His stare grew even colder as his eyes flicked down to the offending hand. "I'm sure you can take a guess as to why I'm upset." She went to jab him again but he quickly caught her wrist before she got the chance.

"Why don't you come into my office?" he said calmly as he jerked her forward into the lab. "Take a seat," he said as he knocked her into the chair he had once used to keep her strapped down. "Tell me what's on your mind."

Angela gasped as he caged her into the seat by placing a hand on either arm of the chair. She shook as she saw the storm brewing behind his eyes and cursed herself for having lost her temper.

"You said you wouldn't use your toxin on me again," she said quietly, knowing that she was walking on eggshells at this point.

"Ah, yes," he sighed. "I did say that, didn't I? But believe me, I've made no such promise about finding other ways to make you scream. Now, tell me what ails you, child, before I really lose my patience."

Angela shook under his gaze. Every nerve was standing on end and all she wanted to do was bolt for the door. Unfortunately, her fight won out over her fight-or-flight responses, and she quickly kicked her foot out towards his stomach. He swiftly caught it and tugged her forward out of the seat. She let out a soft oof as her back hit the floor and the air escaped from her lungs.

Jonathan took the opportunity to quickly roll her onto her stomach and pin her arms behind her back as he pressed her face into the cold tile floor. "You test my patience again and again," he hissed. "I've never had such difficulty in holding back, do you know that? Never have I ever wanted to hear someone scream until their last shuddering breath so badly," he whispered to her as he pressed her wrists harder.

Angela screamed from the pain and hated herself for giving him what he wanted.

"Ah yes, that's it!" He exclaimed. "That beautiful scream of yours. Let me hear it again," he said as he pressed down on her once more. Against her will she screamed again.

"Stop!" She cried out as the pain spiked through her.

Jonathan promptly released her and allowed her to roll onto her back to look up at him, but his look pinned her to the spot so she didn't dare try to get up.

"Are you good and done with fighting me, Angela?" he asked as her breathing finally calmed.

She nodded slowly as she rubbed her sore wrists.

"Good," he purred, satisfied with her response, "now tell me, what could have possibly happened that you felt the need to slap me the moment I opened the door?"

"I'm sick and tired of feeling like I'm not an equal in this place," she snapped, finally sitting up. "Every move I make is being watched. I feel like a lab experiment. You and Edward kept information from me that you knew I had an interest in knowing. Tell me why."

"You're in no position to make such demands," he said calmly as he leaned back on his hands from his seated position. "Besides, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. Perhaps if you had spoken to me - rather than pouncing on me the moment you saw me - then you could have gotten your answers, but as of right now I'm not feeling too generous."

Angela took a deep, calming breath as she tried not to think about pouncing on him at that very moment. "I'm talking about Don. He was at my apartment the other day and the both of you deliberately kept the information from me just to use against me."

"Oh, that?" he shrugged nonchalantly. "I see no reason why that would merit such a reaction."

Angela wanted to pull her hair out at his carefree attitude toward the matter. She wanted to reach out and smack that smug look right off of his face, but she knew by now that the consequences wouldn't be worth it. "You know exactly why it bothers me so much. Its your manipulation. You use it against me again and again, and now you've got Edward in on it. Tell me how I'm ever supposed to trust either of you."

"I've never asked for your trust, Angela," he said as he leaned forward, practically hovering over her. "I only asked for your loyalty. It would be in your best interests to remember that."

Angela was no longer frightened by his gimmicks. She leaned forward as well, letting him know that personal space now mattered as little to her as it did to him. When she spoke, it was with quiet conviction. "I don't want to be loyal to someone I can't even trust."

Jonathan laughed in her face. He clutched his sides as he threw his head back and continued his laughter. The sound of it was shrill and cruel to Angela's ears.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You think that boy, the one you're so infatuated with – Oh no, don't you dare deny it," he said as he saw her begin to argue. "You imagine him to be someone worth your trust? Come, Angela, let me show you what Edward failed to inform you about."

He pulled her up from the ground and escorted her to Edward's computer, demanding that she take a seat as he worked over the keyboard. When he finished typing, a video recording of the entrance to her apartment came up on one of the monitors. The footage was in a grainy black and white with no sound.

Angela perked up as she saw Don come onto the screen and knock on her door. He repeated this action more than once before checking the surrounding hallway. Angela was caught off guard as she watched him suddenly kick her door in. Don disappeared from view for several seconds before he exited the apartment, leaving the door wide open. When the playback ended she looked back to Jonathan. He had a smug look on his face.

Angela crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "So what?" she said. "What are you trying to prove? He probably got worried and went in to check on me, or see if he could find out where I had been."

Jonathan sighed. "Oh dear, sweet, naïve, child. How I wish it didn't have to come to this." He typed in another set of codes, making another video feed come up on the monitor. "This was taken several hours before the last video."

Angela watched as a street view camera focused in on a man standing on the corner of a street. He wore a dark coat and a hat that obscured his eyes, and he looked to be waiting for someone. After a brief moment she saw Don enter the frame.

Without sound she couldn't hear their exchange, but she had to admit that the entirety of the situation seemed shady. Angela looked on in confusion as she watched the unfamiliar man reach into his deep pocket and hand Don a very full envelope. Don quickly stuffed the envelope into the breast pocket of his jacket and walk off. The video ended.

When she looked away from the screen she saw Jonathan watching her with a neutral expression. "What exactly are you trying to say by showing me all of this?" she asked.

Jonathan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose impatiently "You're just not getting it, are you? I showed you these videos because Don is not as trustworthy as you seem to think he is. Your beloved Donald took payment from a man who works for Lex Luthor. The man you seem to trust so much, he was collecting information on you. Don't believe for a second that he was there for any other reason."

"How the hell can you expect me to believe all of this?" She asked as she rose from her seat. "What on earth would Lex want from me anyway? It makes no sense."

"No, Angela, it makes perfect sense. Lex knew enough about the asylum to know who your father was. Don't you understand that was the reason he took such a keen interest in you?" Jonathan began to pace in front of her impatiently. He couldn't understand how she couldn't see something that was so obvious. "He believes you know something about the Titan formula that your father was working on with Penelope Young."

Angela suddenly looked awestruck as he hit her with that information. "But I don't know anything about that."

"Believe me dear, I know that. You would have sold that information long ago if it would have gotten you out of that trashy apartment in the Narrows, but they don't understand you like I do," he said as he grasped her shoulders.

"You don't know a thing about me, Crane," she said scornfully as she shrugged out of his grasp, "and you still haven't told me why you failed to share this information with me."

Jonathan kept his expression neutral as he spoke. "I just wanted to see you get hurt," he told her as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I wanted to just use it to manipulate you, to use against you?"

"No, that's not what I want to hear. What I want to hear is the truth, but it's obvious to me now that you're nothing but a liar."

"Oh, you're one to talk, Angela. People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"You're unbelievable," she said as she shook her head. "How can you possibly call me a liar? What have I lied about?"

"Anytime this man comes up you always claim 'he's just a friend, it's nothing,' but it's quite obvious that he means something to you. Why do you constantly deny it? Are you trying to keep him safe? Afraid I might use him against you?"

Angela looked closely at Jonathan. There was something hiding behind that neutral expression, behind his pale eyes she could see his well tucked away rage, and realization suddenly struck her. "Are you… Jealous of him?" The question felt unnatural to her. Even as she asked it she couldn't believe what she was saying, but when he failed to give any response at all Angela's jaw hung in disbelief. "Is that why you kept this from me, because you were jealous?"

Jonathan sat in Edward's chair and scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly before looking back to her. "No, Angela, that is not why I kept this from you, though I won't deny it certainly factors in. I didn't tell you because, believe it or not, I didn't want that man's betrayal to hurt you. As a matter of fact I would have preferred you to have forgotten about him all together, but my motivations were far less selfish than you may think. You've been through enough during your time here. I didn't want to add this to the list."

Angela was silenced for a moment. She was baffled by this information. "You were trying to protect me?" She asked, a look of suspicion still on her face.

"Yes. Edward was never supposed to tell you. Unfortunately he's quite a gossip and loves to cause trouble at times," Jonathan sighed. He watched as Angela looked down at the floor, seeming to be upset with herself.

"I'm sorry I made so many accusations about you," she said softly. She tried to hide her face from his view as a tear slid down her cheek. "I can't believe Don would do this to me. I thought he was a good man. I never thought he would do something like this." She began to turn away from him but Jonathan gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him.

"Sit," he urged her. Angela followed his direction and delicately took a seat on his lap. She curled into him as she tried to wipe the tears form her eyes. "You need not worry about all of that now. It's as I've told you before, there's no place safer than in the arms of the devil," he said as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm going to make you strong Angela, you'll see, and in the meantime I'll protect you from all that causes you pain."

"That's quite a promise to make," she said softly. "What makes me so worthy of such a promise?"

Jonathan shifted her on his lap so that she was looking directly at him. He wiped the remaining tears from her cheek and ran the fingers of his other hand over the soft skin of her arm. "Every day I find myself more and more infatuated with you. I'm not sure if it's simply because you saved me from the brink of death on more than one occasion, or because of a physical attraction, or because of that charming personality of yours," he chuckled sarcastically at the last bit, "but it is something I can no longer deny, especially after the other night."

Angela bit her lip nervously, she never knew how to respond to people admitting their feelings for her, and this was an especially odd case. She couldn't deny that she felt immensely flattered. She didn't see Jonathan as the type of man who developed a crush often, and because of that she had to be careful not to say anything that would cause him to think she was rejecting him.

"I'm not sure what to say," she finally answered. "It never crossed my mind that you would feel that way, especially about me. It's all just a lot to take in, though it does explain some things," she admitted with a soft laugh. As a sign that she was neither rejecting him nor saying anything about how she felt she returned his touch and gently took his face in her hands. Jonathan's eyes fluttered closed and he sighed as he leaned into her touch.

"I don't understand this either," Jonathan said softly in reference to her touching him. "Somehow you have some sort of hypnotizing effect on me every time we touch. I want to know more. I want to experience more of this. It's like floating on a cloud." Angela blushed at the fact that he had just admitted that he wanted her to touch him more.

She let one of her hands slip down to caress the side of his neck, curious about her effect on him as well, and he let out a soft hum of content. "What do you really want from this, Jonathan?" She asked in a soft lulling voice.

Jonathan stayed silent for a moment, basking in her gentle caress before he finally spoke.

"Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie,

Kissed the girls and made them cry.

When the boys came out to play,

Georgie Porgie ran away."

Angela tilted her head curiously. "You think you're like Georgie Porgie?"

"No, no," he sighed with his eyes still closed, "I want the opposite. I don't want to make you cry. I want to chase the other boys away. No one will hurt you again." He took her hand from his face and pressed gentle kisses to the tops of her knuckles.

When Jonathan opened his eyes again he noticed the light blush on her cheeks and the slightly surprised look on her face. Her lips were slightly parted. They looked so soft and inviting to him. He reached up and brushed his thumb gently over her lower lip. Angela's blush deepened as she noticed the longing behind his eyes, and the question he was silently asking.

She slowly pulled her hands away and looked down at them in her own lap. Jonathan cursed himself as he felt her pull away from him, and that floating feeling cleared away from his mind. He released a slow sigh as she got up from his lap. It wasn't the first time he had been rejected by a woman, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He could take the rejection, he was used to it.

Just as he was berating himself in his mind Angela took in his expression and decided to put a stop to what she knew he must have been thinking. "Perhaps another time," she said softly. "I don't think it's such a good idea to jump right into something like that when we're both locked up down here. Nothing good will come from that."

All of the previous thoughts cleared from his mind as he stood and stretched. "I suppose you're right. I wouldn't want to distract you from your studies," he said with a devilish grin.

Angela laughed aloud. "I think you mean you wouldn't want me to distract you from your research."

"Speaking of, I still have much to get done," he said as he began to turn towards the door to his lab. Before he made it there he noticed the somber look that quickly took over as she watched him begin to leave. "What is it?" He asked.

"It's just that you've been locked up in your lab all week and I'm sick of being confined to these two rooms with nothing but my studies and Edward to keep me company."

Jonathan stood in contemplation for a moment, unsure if he should comply to what he believed she was asking. After a brief moment of thought he didn't see why there would be much of a problem with it.

"Alright then," he finally said. "Grab some of your textbooks and join me in the lab, but you must be careful not to touch anything," he told her seriously.

Angela beamed with excitement as she would finally be able to get a look at what his work consisted of. As she went into the dormitory to get her things Jonathan allowed himself a small smile. He felt as though things were going fairly well for him, all things considered.


	26. Chapter 26

Jonathan turned when he heard the lab door open and saw Angela standing there with her laptop and textbooks clutched to her chest. He hadn't noticed her state of dress during their previous conversation, but he noticed now that she looked delightfully disheveled in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She reminded him of the many female students who would roll out of bed just to rush to his lectures. He found the look quite appetizing on her.

Angela felt Jonathan's eyes glued to her body, and noticed the daydreamy look in his eyes. She softly cleared her throat and raised a brow in question as he seemed to come back to his senses.

"Ah, yes," he said, seeming to regain his composure. "Take a seat over there and don't move from that spot," he told her pointing to a clear space of counter. Angela simply nodded and quietly took a seat.

"Did Edward give you a hard time when you went to collect your things from the room?" He asked.

Angela rolled her eyes at the thought of Edward. "Of course he did. He tried to question my intelligence, as per usual, and then tried to say that me not knowing about Don was my own fault and not his. So I did the only thing I could think to do to get back at him."

"Which was?" Jonathan questioned with a raised brow.

"Ignore him," she said with a smirk. "As in completely ignore, as if he didn't even exist. He went nuts. I don't know where he went or when he'll be back but he had a fit and left."

Jonathan grinned proudly. She had used one of Edward's fears against him and was quite obviously glad to have benefited from it. It was a small victory in his eyes. "Try doing it for a week," he laughed. "It becomes difficult to ignore him for that long when he tries to murder you for acting like he doesn't exist. Edward has a multitude of fears that he lets others use against him far too frequently."

Angela laughed to herself at the idea of Jonathan being able to ignore Edward for that long. She couldn't imagine herself not getting fed up with Edward going ballistic for that long.

Angela got comfortable in her seat and opened her laptop to begin her studies. She responded to group discussions, handed in assignments, and answered short questions. When it finally came time for her to watch her video lectures she heard Jonathan make an irritated noise behind her. She chose to ignore it and continued to listen to her professor drone on and on.

When Jonathan made the noise a third time she finally turned to him. "What? What is it? Why do you keep making that noise?" She noticed that he had been standing behind her watching the lecture over her shoulder.

"Your professor is dreadfully dull. It's as if no one has any passion for education anymore. His focus should be to make you excited about learning, not put you to sleep," he said as he carefully poured a solution into a graduated cylinder. "My lectures were never so bland. It's my belief that a professor should be an entertainer first, and an educator second."

"Oh yeah," Angela replied, "I almost forgot you were a professor. What made your classes so interesting?"

Jonathan thought for a moment about what example to give her. "I brought a gun into a lecture once," he shrugged.

Angela tried not to laugh, but failed as a small chuckle escaped her. "Is that why you got fired from the university?" Jonathan responded to her question with a disgruntled look, which was all the answer she needed.

"I've been wondering," he began after a moment, "what sort of medical degree can you possibly obtain through online courses?"

"I'm studying pharmaceuticals. I don't have to do any hands on learning until further into my education, so they offer online classes at a lower cost for the main bulk of the course."

Jonathan looked confused for a moment. "If you're simply studying pharmaceuticals then how did you know all those things when you had to patch me up?"

Angela gave a small shrug. "Stuff dad taught me."

Jonathan left the conversation at that and continued his work as Angela sat through another lecture. Luckily, this second professor didn't seem to be nearly as dull as the last, but she still found herself getting distracted. She would often glance in Jonathan's direction to watch him pour a mixture or to watch as he held a beaker up to the light. Jonathan had his sleeves rolled up and Angela found herself distracted when watching the tense muscle on his forearms as he mixed chemicals together.

Jonathan was acutely aware of her watching him, but he continued his work none the less. He found himself stealing glances at her, so he couldn't exactly fault her for staring. He often felt himself pausing to watch as she bit her lip whenever her professor would bring up a particularly difficult subject.

"I don't get this," she said after encountering a particularly difficult subject. Jonathan set what he was working on down and walked over to her.

"What is it?" He asked as he pulled a seat up next to her. Angela tensed slightly as he sat distractingly close to her. Beneath the counter she felt his leg pressed against the side of her own.

"You always sit this close to your students, Professor Crane?" She asked in a mockingly sultry tone as she leaned in close to him.

Jonathan gave a satisfied smirk at her calling him professor. "Only the particularly lovely ones," he purred. "Now do you want my help or not?"

Angela nodded and cleared her head. She explained the course she was studying, Behavioral Science. "My professor is expecting us to deliver a paper on a specific focus of Behavioral Science, but he didn't go into detail about a bunch of these topics. I've been flipping through the textbook and I can't find anything on some of the examples he's given. How the hell is he expecting me to do this?" She said somewhat frantically, as if her entire GPA depended on this one paper.

"Angela, calm down. Tell me what subjects he suggested in the video and I can explain some of them for you."

Angela took a deep breath before looking over her notes. "Cognitive theory, Anthropology, Organizational Ecology, and Ethology to name a few."

Jonathan sat in thought for a moment. "I'll teach you about Ethology," he told her as he rose from his seat. "This will be good. Have you ever heard of Pavlov's dog?"

Angela thought for a moment. "Is that the experiment where some guy taught his dogs when to expect food by ringing a bell or something?"

"That's it exactly," he said as he shuffled through one of his drawers. He noticed Angela watching him curiously, but continued his search for what he needed. "Ahh, there we are," he sighed as he found the item and turned to her with it in hand. "Put this on."

"What the hell is this?" She asked distastefully as she took what looked to be an elastic band.

"It's a heart rate monitor, you wear it like an arm band," he told her, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. He leaned against a counter and waited for her to put the item on.

"Good," he grinned as she put on the arm band with a slightly confused look as to where he was going with all of this. "Now this will be a lesson both for your formal education, as well as your education in working with me. In Ethology, scientists discover the behaviors of certain animals and try to discover whether that behavior was created through function, causation, development, or evolution," he explained as he raised a finger when listing off each explanation. "When Ethologists study these behaviors they experiment to see if they can change these behaviors in their subjects. That's what the arm band is for. If your heart rate raises too high, the arm band will sound. I will try to alter this behavior in you through different stimuli."

Angela nodded in understanding but still held that confused look on her face.

"Now which of these explanations do you think causes the behaviors that fear creates?" He asked. Angela noticed the slight change in his posture when mentioning fear. He seamed more relaxed and somewhat excited as his movement became more fluid.

She thought for a moment of what the answer may be. "Is it development? People develop fear because of something that previously happened, something that made them feel as though they should respond a certain way to certain situations?"

"Not quite," he said with a grin. He began to pace around the room excitedly as he continued his lecture. "It's actually all four. You've got the development part right, but there's also function. For example, having fear enhances an animals chance in survival. The fight or flight reaction causes a rush of adrenalin that allows one to deal with inherent danger. With causation, some forms of stimuli can elicit a reaction of fear. For example, pain can cause someone to respond to a situation with fear."

When he finally stopped pacing he was standing at the far edge of the room. "And finally, evolutionary. Evolution has the ability to create behaviors of fear that were never taught to us or created through experience. Nyctophobia, for example," he said as he flicked off the light switch in the lab.

Alarms instantly went off in Angela's head as all sight escaped her. When the lights went out she had been standing in the very center of the room. She felt her heart rate raise at the notion of the unexpected, and the monitor beeped in tandem. When she heard the monitor go off she felt a sudden strike at her back that knocked the air out of her.

"Focus, Angela," she heard Jonathan say from somewhere in the room, she couldn't tell where as he was throwing his voice. "Steady your breathing."

Angela took a deep, calming breath. Gradually the monitor slowed it's beeping until it came to a stop as her pulse fell below a certain rate. She felt her senses heighten as she stood silently in the center of the room. Her ears perked at the slightest sound as she heard the soft scraping of metal against metal come from across the room, but she couldn't pinpoint the location. Long moments passed as the sound came closer, and closer, and closer. Her heart began to race, and the beeping began again.

Suddenly there was a jab at her ribs. Angela cried out at the pain and the beeping increased. Another jab, this time on her left side. Angela collapsed to her knees at the pain. Through her anguish she heard Jonathan move. She quickly rolled away and tried to catch her breath. Steadily the beeping of the arm band came to a stop as she pulled herself up from the ground.

"Can I get a little positive reinforcement here too?" she choked out.

"If it will make you feel better," he said in a sultry tone, "then I'm more than happy to oblige."

Angela flinched for the briefest of moments as she felt Jonathan reach out and caress the side of her face with the tips of his fingers. She had no idea how he was so aware of his surroundings when she couldn't even see an inch in front of her own face.

As a reward for keeping her heart rate in check, Jonathan delved his fingers into the hair near the base of her neck and softly massaged her scalp with the tips of his fingers. He tilted her head to the side and smiled into the curve of her neck when she gasped as he pressed feather light kisses to her soft skin. The monitor sounded again and he quickly pulled his hands away from her before delivering a palm strike to her abdomen.

Angela choked at the loss of breath and quickly backed away before he could strike again. Unfortunately she wasn't fast enough and she suddenly felt her feet get kicked out from beneath her. As she lay on the ground she quickly tore the arm band from her arm and was relieved as its incessant beeping came to a stop.

She caught her breath and pulled herself up off of the ground. "I think I'm getting better at this," she lied. "As you were, Professor," she said, waiting for her reward for stopping the monitors beeping. Angela let out a surprised scream as she suddenly found herself slammed face down against a clear space of metal counter top.

"There's no reward for cheating," Jonathan told her as he pinned her wrists behind her back. "Scream for me again, my dear," he murmured softly in her ear.

"Not a chance," she laughed as she tried to slip out of his hold without any chance of success.

"You can struggle all you want," he chuckled darkly, "but you're not getting away. Now do as I said, Angela."

"I said not a ch-AHHHHH!" She cried out in pain as he pulled her wrists back harshly, causing her back to arch uncomfortably and pulling her backside to press into him.

Jonathan inhaled sharply through his teeth at the feeling of her pressed against him and at the sound of her scream. He released a slow, shaky exhale. As the pain died down Angela noticed Jonathan's reaction and a mischievous smile spread across her face. She rolled her backside against him and grinned as she heard a soft groan escape him.

Jonathan felt his own pulse begin to race as she continued to grind against him. He released her wrists and pinned her against the counter with his own weight as he leaned over her. He opted for placing his hands on her hips and drawing her even closer to his growing erection.

Angela gasped as she felt him rut his hips into her. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt something hard pressing against her. "I suppose this answers that question about physical attraction," she said with a soft laugh.

Jonathan chuckled darkly. "Oh, you thought that was in question? Allow me to alleviate your curiosity," he said as he slipped his hands between her and the counter top, cupping her breasts in his hands as he rutted his hips against her once more. He threw his head back and released a slow groan as He pressed himself against her and moved his hips in a circular motion. She was softer and much more willing than he ever could have imagined.

Angela cried out in pleasure as he began to press soft kisses to the curve of her neck. Her hands clawed at the metal counter as she tried to find something to hold onto. She needed something, anything to keep her grounded. She let out another gasp as he began to gently squeeze her breasts in his hands.

"Let me touch you," she begged as she tried to turn in his hold, but he had her pinned to the spot.

Jonathan laughed softly. "Correct me if I'm wrong," he said before lightly nipping at her ear, "but I recall this was to be punishment for removing the arm band, not a reward. How will you ever learn your lesson if I'm just to give you what you want?"

"Jonathan, please," she cried out.

"I don't think so," he said before biting down harshly on the skin between her neck and shoulder. Angela screamed at the sudden jolt of pleasure and pain. He let out a deep groan as his hips bucked forward at the sound.

Angela's nails clawed at the metal counter and she fiercely jerked her hips back at him. Jonathan's hold on her slipped from the movement and she took the opportunity to turn in his hold. He lost his balance for a moment. Angela heard him stumble back in the darkness and took the chance to make her move. She dove at him and brought them both down to the ground.

Jonathan landed harshly on the cold tile floor. The pain of the fall quickly diminished as he felt Angela sit astride him and pin his wrists on either side of his head. He could have easily slipped out of her hold and taken the control back, but he found he quite liked the prospect of her taking control.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his own. It wasn't soft as their first kiss had been, it was rough, and needy. He didn't feel like he was floating as he usually would when she would touch him. He felt like his whole body was aflame. He felt her tongue smooth over his bottom lip and he was inclined to accept her request. He moaned softly as Angela delved her tongue into his mouth.

She pulled away for a moment to breathe before dipping her head down to place kisses along his neck. She moved downward before reaching the collar of his shirt. Angela released her hold on his wrists and pulled at the offending fabric. "Off," she demanded.

Jonathan obliged and quickly sat up to pull the fabric over his head. He felt her warm hands press against his chest, urging him to lay back down. As he did Angela allowed her hands to roam over his exposed skin. She brushed the tips of her fingers over his ribs and felt the bend in the one that had broken on the night they first met. Apparently it hadn't healed as perfectly as she had hoped it would.

Angela dipped down to place a soft kiss on his lips and continued the trail down his neck. With his shirt now gone she was able to continue her path downwards. She gave a mix of soft kisses, quick flicks of her tongue, and gentle bites against his skin. It was a feeling that was completely foreign to him. He had had women in bed with him before, but none were so attentive. None of those encounters had any emotion tied into them.

Jonathan jolted to grab her hands as he felt her grab at the buckle of his belt. He couldn't let her go on. Not like this.

"I don't think you've earned such a privilege," he said as he tugged her hands away from him. "Especially not after disobeying me twice now."

Angela sighed mockingly. "I suppose you're right. I don't think your lesson has really stuck, Professor," she said before nipping lightly at the skin just above the waistline of his pants.

Jonathan threw his head back and groaned loudly. "You truly are testing my limits, dear. Perhaps you should get back to your studies before this goes any further."

Angela sighed and took the hint. She removed herself from him and got up off of the ground. She waited quietly as he put his shirt back on and got up to flick the lights back on. Jonathan smiled softly at the tint of color in her cheeks. It made him proud to know that the color was there because of him.

"Take your things back to the room," he told her. "I'll finish up here and meet you there once I'm done."

She nodded quietly and gathered her books and laptop. Once she left the room Jonathan released a slow exhale and removed his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "That woman is going to drive me insane," he muttered as he set his mind back to his work.


	27. Chapter 27

Angela awoke with a startle as she felt someone jerk her awake. She had waited hours for Jonathan to come back to the room to go over her paper with her, but he seemed to have been more concerned about completing his own work. She had fallen asleep before he had ever returned to her as he said he would.

When she sat up in the darkness she felt a figure looming over her, but couldn't make out who it was through the lack of sight and the haze of sleep. Neither did she catch who's voice it was that woke her. "What? Who's there?" she mumbled with sleep filled voice.

"It's me, you idiot, wake up," she heard the familiar voice say.

"Edward? I thought I was ignoring you?" She groaned as she pulled her blanket back over her head and plopped down on her pillow.

"Don't you know that no one can resist my charm for long?" He grinned as he peeled the covers back from her.

"Leave me alone, Edward. I'm trying to sleep," she growled as she snatched the covers back.

"Aww, come on Angie. You already slept so much and I need your help. I would ask Jonathan but he left."

Angela promptly sat up at that last bit. "What do you mean he left? Where did he go?"

Even though she couldn't see him well in the darkness, she could tell the rogue was rolling his eyes when he spoke, as if no one should consider the whereabouts of Jonathan Crane over his own needs. "Who cares? Jon muttered some nonsense about a breakthrough with his new toxin and left. He told me not to wake you, but I get the feeling you could be useful in helping me. So get uuup," he whined as he pulled at her wrists.

Angela groaned as she let him pull her from her cot. "I don't see how I could possibly help you. You always seem to be perfectly willing to do everything on your own. What is it you need my help with?"

"I want to go down into Wonder City to look for parts. It seems that you have a keen eye. Jon told me that you spotted that guardian even through all of that rubble."

Angela simply shrugged. "It was shiny. Sort of hard to miss," she said as she grabbed her duffle bag from under her bed. She grabbed the turtleneck Jonathan had let her keep and pulled it over her head, knowing that it would be far too cold for her liking in the underground city.

Edward waited by the doorway as Angela laced up her boots. "Regardless of it being shiny, Jon said it was nearly completely obscured, not to mention covered in soot. He said it was impressive, that your curiosity and inquisitiveness reminded him of a corvid."

"Reminded him of a what?" She said confused.

"Come on, Angie," he groaned. "Don't you know anything about Ornithology?" She simply continued to give him a perplexed look. "Okay, obviously you don't know," he sighed. "It's the study of birds. Corvid are better known as the crow family." He explained as she followed him into Jonathan's lab.

Angela gave him a withering look. "Something tells me Jonathan wasn't pretentious enough to actually use the word corvid instead of just saying crow."

Edward chuckled. "Are you trying to say Jonathan isn't pretentious?" He asked as he leaned against his cane in front of the door to the path to Wonder City.

"That's not what I meant. I just don't think he would have preferred to use the word corvid over getting to say crow, especially considering the fact that he called me little crow before using his toxin on me."

Edward shrugged and opened the door to the path. He seemed to be satisfied with her response and kept quiet for a time, to Angela's surprise. They stayed in comfortable silence until they reached the pit, the one point in the path Angela had been concerned about. When she stopped abruptly Edward looked back at her curiously.

"What's got you so spooked?" He questioned with a raised brow. "Don't tell me this gap freaks you out. You've already made it across twice now."

Angela paled as she looked over the edge of the gap. "Yeah, but that was with Jonathan, and he caught me as I was about to fall to my death the first time. Something tells me you wouldn't be nearly as willing to get your shoulder dislocated for my sake."

"Of course I wouldn't," he told her with a hearty laugh. "I'm much more prepared for such situations than our dear Jonathan could ever be," he said as he twirled his cane through the air. "Behold the genius of Edward Nigma!"

Edward flourished his cane once more before pressing a button at the top of it. Angela watched curiously as she heard the clanking of heavy metal gears. She felt the ground shake softly beneath them and jumped back as she saw a sturdy metal walkway extend from their end to the far end of the pit. Her jaw dropped a bit as the complex mechanism reached the other side and a hard clank echoed through the cavern as everything locked into place.

"Impressive, isn't it?" He said with a suggestive raise of his brow as he drank in her expression.

Angela was at a loss for words. "How did you… was this here before?" Was all she could say in her dumbfounded state.

"Certainly not. I created the design and installed it myself. Once Jonathan told me about your little slip up I couldn't risk losing parts if we were to find anything in Wonder City," he told her as he confidently strutted across the platform.

Angela, feeling much less confident, brusquely walked across the platform to reach the other side. As they continued down the path Edward looked back at her over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't let such little things get to you, ya know," he told her, "or at the very least you shouldn't let it show so easily. Especially if you're going to be around Jonathan more now. You wouldn't want him to know how afraid of heights you are."

Angela looked back at him curiously. "Why do you say that? Do you think he would use it against me."

"That's not necessarily what I'm saying, but say you were to piss him off some day – like really piss him off - there's really no telling how he may lash out at you. Don't forget that you're in the presence of real villains these days, Angie."

The seriousness of his tone came as a surprise to her. "Why are you telling me this? The whole time I've been here you haven't done anything that would necessarily make me think of you as an ally. Everything you've done involving me has just been to serve your own amusement. Why tell me this now?"

Edward simply gave a shrug. "I know what it's like to be on Jon's bad side, and I can tell what's been going on between you two. Don't forget that I'm not stupid. I just think you should be careful. I can see that just like him, you're quick to rush into something you haven't really thought through."

Angela grabbed Edward by the sleeve of his jacket, stopping him short in the path. He turned to her, for once looking confused at the look on her face.

"Just how much do you know about what's going on between Jonathan and I?"

Edward looked down at her and gave a soft chuckle at how seriously she was taking all of this. "I know enough. There are some secrets even Jonathan can't keep from me," he grinned. After a moment his smile began to fade, but he continued to look down on her with a perplexed expression.

"What is it?" She asked as she released his arm and took a step back.

"Hmm," he hummed and tilted his head to the side. "No, you're not at all like a crow in my opinion. Close, but not quite," he said almost to himself as he squinted at her, as if he were trying to see into her. "It's on the tip of my tongue," he said tapping his chin before turning to continue the last few yards of the path. "I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually."

Angela stood dumbstruck for a moment as she watched Edward's receding figure. She couldn't quite follow his seemingly rambling train of thought. She wondered if the reason he had really brought her with him was to tell her these things, to give her a word of caution while Jonathan wasn't around, and to find out more about her. She didn't see Edward as the type of person who had simple intentions for his actions. There always had to be more than one task being handled at a time.

She proceeded to follow him into the city. The magnitude of preservation in the city didn't cease to amaze her the second time around. She followed closely behind Edward as she peeked into windows curiously.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" She asked as she looked into a nearby shop.

"Parts. Anything I can use for making my own guardians. As a matter of fact, you should lead the way. I need someone with a new perspective."

Angela took his instruction and allowed herself the freedom of getting to explore the city. She flited curiously from shop to shop, inspecting the curiosities that laid in their display windows. Edward watched her as he followed at a distance. She could tell he was getting a little impatient at the fact that she was more interested in her own freedom than in helping him find what he wanted, but she could hardly help it. Being in Wonder City was like visiting another time period.

She saw Edward begin to tap his foot impatiently as she stared through an apartment window. This was the signal that her time for exploring was up. She backed away from the window and pivoted in a circle in an attempt to think of which direction to go in. Angela spotted a narrow alley and decided to choose that path.

Edward followed closely, feeling as though she was onto something as she approached the path like a hound on a trail. At the end of the alley she shot to the left and jogged towards a short apartment building. A few of the windows were shattered and he had to admit that this seemed to be a slightly shadier side of town. That didn't seem to deter her as she neared the building, going straight for the front door.

"We should check in here," she said as she fiddled with the large handle. Edward watched her struggle with the door for a moment before brushing her aside.

"Why don't you let a professional handle this?" he said as he pulled a lock pick from his pocket. Angela watched closely as he deftly popped the lock.

"Where did you learn that?" She asked as they entered the building.

"Manny years of practice. Now hurry up and find something. This is getting boring."

"Can you teach me how to pick locks?" She asked, ignoring his impatience as she walked up a stairwell.

"Maybe, but only if you can find what I'm looking for."

Angela grinned at the idea of obtaining such a skill and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. She exited through a door on the third floor and found a hall with doors that were nearly side by side. She stopped at a door that read 3H and gestured him toward it.

"Open this one," she instructed confidently. Edward looked at her curiously before taking out his lock pick.

"How can you be so sure it's this one? How do I know this isn't just you wasting more time?"

"Oh, Eddie, you ask too many questions," she grinned.

He gave her an unenthusiastic look before begrudgingly popping the lock open. The door creaked open to reveal a narrow entry hall. Angela followed Edward quietly into the cramped space. A few paces into the hall, on the left, stood the entryway to a small kitchenette. Angela peered in to look at the intriguing pattern on the peeling wallpaper as Edward opened a door to the right of the hall.

Behind the door was a tiny bathroom that was decorated in an absurd amount of pink. Edward cringed at the décor before pulling the door shut to guard his eyes from the disastrous view. "There's nothing in this place but a horrible taste in decorating," he said.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Angela said from down the hall.

As Edward approached he could see glass shattered across the hard wood floor. His brow rose in surprise as he crossed the threshold into the living room. Sitting in the corner, dented and dirty, sat a Wonder City Guardian. His jaw went slack as he took in the scene before him. There were stains of blood across the walls, shattered glass from the windows everywhere, and furniture smashed to pieces.

"What the hell happened here?" Edward muttered almost to himself.

Angela simply shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "Doesn't really matter anymore, does it? Whatever happened here, it's been over and done with for ages," she leaned against the wall and tilted her head back to rest against it. "Take what you need. I want to get out of here," she said. "This place gives me the creeps."

She wouldn't admit that it wasn't simply the unsettling crime scene in the dingy apartment that was setting off alarms in her head. There was something else entirely that was making her anxious, but she couldn't quite place the feeling in her gut. There was danger, but she couldn't tell what the danger was from.

Edward crouched down and began removing parts from the guardian. Angela couldn't help but notice him glance at her suspiciously several times as he worked.

"What is it?" She finally asked.

Edward yanked a circuit board from the guardian's chest before looking back at her. "How is it that you found this so easily?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I followed my gut, and then from there I took an educated guess. I took a direction I thought would take us to a bad neighborhood, and then looked for a place that a crime would have taken place." Edward was still eyeing her wearily so she continued. "Seeing the shattered window from outside was a dead giveaway. The last guardian was found in a location where a fire occurred. If we keep looking for crime scenes we're bound to find more."

Edward looked on at her and grinned proudly. "Quite clever you are indeed," he sang before returning his attention to the task at hand. "Here's the thing though, the thought had already crossed my brilliant mind. Yet somehow, on your first try, you succeed in finding a guardian. What's your secret, Angie?"

Angela pursed her lips in thought. After a moment she answered. "To be quite honest, I guess it was just luck."

Edward frowned and ripped another circuit board from the guardian. It was a disturbing sight, almost as if he were ripping out someone's organs. "I don't believe in luck. Either you know something or you don't. There's no such thing as a lucky guess."

She didn't have a worthy response to such a statement so she opted for silence. Telling Edward that she had used more intuition than intellect was a recipe for disaster. A long moment of silence followed as Edward continued his work. He took his time as Angela shifted uncomfortably at the edge of the room. She made it all too obvious when she was feeling anxious.

"I told you not to wear your fears so openly," he spoke calmly as he unscrewed a bolt holding a circuit in place. "We'll be leaving soon. There's no need to get so jittery. It's not even that spooky here."

"It's not that," she said, unsure of how to describe the dread that was hovering over her. "Something's wrong. We need to get back soon. I don't know what it is but something is wrong."

Edward rolled his eyes and muttered something about women and their intuition before pulling one last circuit and standing to stretch. "Take the head," he instructed, pointing to the guardian. "Then we'll head back."

A ngela dutifully followed the order, wanting to spend no more time than was needed in Wonder City, even if it meant letting Edward take charge. She brusquely left the apartment with the guardian's head in hand and took hurried steps towards the path from which they came. Edward was thoroughly impressed by her ability to remember the way back, considering this had only been her second visit to the city. He watched curiously as she flitted around each street corner, keeping a pace that was difficult to match even for him.

"Wait just a second!" He said between breaths, winded from trying to keep up with her. If she hadn't been heading straight to the path he would have thought she was trying to lose him in the city. Angela stopped short and turned to face him to hear what he had to say "What the hell has you so spooked, Angela? You were quite content to wander around aimlessly before we got here. What's your rush to get out?"

"I can't quite place it," she told him awkwardly. She couldn't understand the feeling herself, but she knew they needed to go back. "I just know that something is wrong. I feel like…"

Edward waited impatiently at her pause. "Feel like what? Spit it out already."

She shifted uncomfortably before answering. "I feel like we're heading back to something very bad, but the longer we wait the worse it's going to get."

Edward paled slightly at her bleak prediction. "You don't think it's the Bat, do you? Do you think he found us?"

"No, no, it's not that," she muttered as she headed back up the trail. "Just trust me for once, Edward. We need to go back."

He nodded in acceptance and followed her silently back towards the lab. When they reached the pit she didn't even give a second glance to the cavernous divide. She simply strutted quickly across without even a thought. Edward caught her attention once more as he spoke up.

"I think I've figured it out," he said confidently.

"Figured what out?" she said without turning.

"What kind of corvid you remind me of."

Angela continued quietly up the path. She waited for his grand reveal in silence. She wasn't in the mood to play to his ego and ask for his answer.

He gave a dissatisfied huff at her unwillingness to play his game. He could easily sense her haste to get back to the lab, but wished that wasn't the case. He wanted to marvel someone with his brilliance, and Edward was accustomed to getting his way.

"Go on then," she finally said, giving in to his need for attention.

"You're more like a rook than a crow," he answered with a smile in his tone of voice.

That prompted Angela to stop in her tracks and turn. "I'm sorry, a rook? So what is that supposed to mean? How am I anything like a rook?"

Edward grinned at his own brilliance. Of course he could see the truth of the matter before her tiny brain could even comprehend the meaning of his statement. "You're far too serious to be a mischievous crow. Comparatively they're just as clever, but here's the best part; rooks are known in folklore to be able to predict bad fortune, like a storm, or a death."

Edwards grand reveal was punctuated by the sound of a shuddering scream sounding from the end of the corridor that lead to the lab. Angela swiveled in place to look to the door that lead to the lab before looking back at Edward. "Jonathan," she gasped under her breath. "Tell me about this another time Eddie," she said before bolting towards the door.

"Angela, wait!" he shouted, trying to catch her before she reached the door. "That wasn't Jon's voice. Angela, stop!" But she was too quick. Angela threw the door open and he crashed into her as she came to a sudden stop in the door way. The parts of the Wonder City guardian they were carrying clattered to the floor, catching the attention of the occupants in the room.

Together they looked on in horror at the scene before them. A man was strapped to the chair Angela had once found herself confined to. His head hung forward as blood dripped from a wound on his forehead. His eyes bulged as he released another horrified scream. A thick fog of toxin hung in the air, and in the midst of all of it, cackling with glee, stood the Scarecrow.

Edward processed the scene before Angela could really understand what was happening. He let out a short "Screw this," before shoving her forward into the lab and slamming the door to the path shut with himself safely behind it.

Angela let out a frightened shriek before turning to try and pry the door open, but it was no use. Edward was holding it shut from the other side. "Edward, you coward!" She cried out as she slammed her fists against the door. She felt the toxin that was lingering in the air begin to take effect on her as her heart began to race. She let out a terrified scream as she felt something come down over her face. She tried to swat it away in her panicked state, but bony fingers quickly grasped her wrists tightly to keep her from pulling whatever it was from her face.

"Hush now, child," she heard the distorted voice of the Scarecrow whisper in her ear as he wrapped his thin arms around her. "It's Just a gas mask. Be calm, my dear."

Angela took in short, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure. When she was finally calm enough to take in the situation she dislodged herself from his grasp and took a step back. "What the hell is this, Jonathan? What are you doing to this poor man?"

"Testing, of course," he told her plainly. Looking in his eyes she could see the smile that was hidden beneath his mask. It made a chill run up her spine as she lost herself in those eyes that were swallowed up by darkness. She now saw the mistake she made in calling him Jonathan. In this moment, he was completely lost to the scarecrow persona.

"Come now, my dear," he said as he placed his metal clad hand against the curve of her back. She felt the needles of his gauntlet rest gently against her back. Her muscles tensed at the unnerving sensation, but she didn't try to fight him as he lead her forward. The risk was too high with his toxin in such close proximity.

"Don't be frightened," he purred as he lead her towards the wounded man. "You've arrived just in time for a lesson. I promised to teach you a great deal of things, did I not?"

Angela felt fear settle deep in her throat, begging to escape in a terrible scream. She should have let Edward take his time in Wonder City. Edward had been wrong, so wrong, about his perception of her. She didn't flee from danger, she flocked to it.


	28. Chapter 28

"Don't be frightened," the Scarecrow purred as he lead Angela towards the wounded man. "You've arrived just in time for a lesson. I promised to teach you, did I not?"

Angela shook with fear as she stood before the horrified stranger. The Scarecrow reached for something on the medical cart he kept by his patient and pressed it into her open palm. She knew all too well what it was before she looked down to see it. She could feel the cold glass of the syringe pressed against her palm. Without a word spoken, she knew exactly what it was he was asking of her. He looked at her expectantly with a tilt of his head. In an attempt to sooth her fears he ran his hand along her side with practiced delicacy, sure not to catch her skin with the needles of his gauntlet.

Angela shied away from his touch and shook her head. "I can't do this," she said as she tried to give the syringe back to him. "I can't. I won't," she responded sternly.

He refused to take it back and instead he closed his hand over her own, making her grasp the syringe tightly. With his other hand he reached up and carefully removed the mask from his own face. Angela watched in rapture as he inhaled deeply and rolled his neck and shoulders as if he were settling back into his own skin. His eyes fluttered closed with the stretch and when he opened them again they were back to their crystalline blue, rather than the pitch-black gaze of the Scarecrow. His hair was messy from pulling off the mask and stood up at odd angles. If he were wearing his glasses he would have made a perfect picture of a mad scientist.

"Don't worry, Angela. The toxin has lost its effect on me over time. I can process inhaling it quite easily now," he told her, mistaking her look of horror for one of concern for his wellbeing. "The mask is mostly used to enhance the effect of the toxin on my patients."

"Jonathan," she said, feeling much more confident in using his name now that the mask was off, "I'm not doing this. Please, take this syringe back. I want no part in this."

"I'll do no such thing," he told her matter of factly. His cold gaze seemed so much more intense when it wasn't hidden behind the glasses he usually wore. "Like it or not, you're going to do this, Angela. Or have you forgotten our agreement?"

Angela matched his intense look as she looked up at Jonathan. Her brow scrunched and her fist clenched tightly around the syringe. "How could I ever forget when its constantly held over my head," she said through gritted teeth. "It would be nice if for just one second you would let me catch my breath, Jonathan. Every time I think I'm starting to settle into this life you're creating for me, you go and throw in a whole new monster for me to deal with."

Jonathan reached out to tuck a lock of her short hair back as he looked down tenderly at her. "I'm so sorry my dear, but we just don't have that kind of time. I need this from you, and I need it now."

"Jonathan, please. I can't do this. I'm not ready."

"Hush now," he told her softly. "No more pleading, no more bargaining. The time to accept this life has come. You are not my prisoner, Angela. You are not my victim. I will never harm you again. We are equals now and it's time for you to accept your place here. Accept this life I've offered to you. Bring forth the strength I know is inside you. Be the woman you were that fateful night we first met. You can do this. Don't let fear rule you any longer. Use fear to take what belongs to you, and we can rule this city together."

Angela felt the heat of her tears streak down her cheek and collect at the ridge of the gas mask he had placed on her. Jonathan delicately wiped them away with his thumb and took her head in his hands. He stepped in close and rested his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes as he whispered sweetly to her. "I can teach you how to protect yourself from those who would cause you harm, Angela, but only if you let me in. I cannot force you to do this, but you must make your choice now. If you decide to end things here then I will let you go, but if you stay then you must accept my orders."

Angela let a soft gasp escape her. "You would let me go? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he promised. "I cannot deny that I have grown fond of you, and I would rather run the risk of setting you free than killing you for the sake of my safety here. If you stay and refuse my teachings then that makes you a liability to me. It makes you a weakness, because I cannot stand the thought of you getting hurt. Take the power that I offer you, Angela. I want it to be you. Do not think that begging is beneath me."

Angela took a step back as her head reeled from her racing thoughts. Freedom, he was offering her freedom. She could return home and be done with this place. It would feel like the end of a nightmare. Never again would she have to come face to face with her own fears. She could go back to… go back to what? There was nothing left for her.

Her job no longer existed. She had no family waiting for her. Her apartment was in a crime riddled neighborhood, and the only person she considered a friend had been a traitor who was willing to collect information on her for Luthor. The mere thought of Don made her angry. He may have liked her at one point, but it was obvious that he would have only been loyal to himself and the money in his pockets.

Angela looked up at Jonathan and saw the hope in his eyes. He was waiting with baited breath for her response. She saw now that this was the real danger of Jonathan Crane - that charm the Bat had spoken of was more evident than ever. The earnest look of caring, of need, it pulled her in like a whirlpool. There had been many times where he had hurt her, but he had never been dishonest about who he was. He didn't hide the fact that he was a villain, a monster. He wasn't promising a life of joy and happiness. He was offering protection and power, something she felt had been lacking in her life for far too long now.

She looked down at the syringe in her hand. Could she do this? Could she really find anything akin to happiness if she chose this life? A life with Jonathan. Was it power that she had been seeking all along? She thought back to how she had felt the night at Luthor's party, when she had pulled the trigger and set off the toxin. She thought of the power she held over Jonathan, a man of such strength and strong convictions. She thought of the times she had turned him to putty in her hands and how the power had rushed to her head. Yes, she realized, she wanted that power. She wanted to take from the city just as it had taken from her.

She sat idly after her father's death for far too long. Her life had slipped from her hands after the Arkham riots. She felt like the city owed her. It owed her the education she had been so close to completing. It owed her the father she never got to say goodbye to. It owed her a life where she had the ability to decide her own fate. These were the things she sorely wished to have back. But right in front of her, in this moment, Jonathan was offering her something much greater. He was offering her the power to bend and shape her own fate. He was granting her control over her own life.

Angela looked up and met his gaze with determination. "If you're not too proud to beg, then beg," she commanded.

Jonathan grinned at her tenacity. This is what he wanted, this was the apprentice he had been seeking all along. A woman with strength hidden deep within her. He thought back to the circumstance of their meeting. Every day, since the day he had met her, he had admired her bravery. In front of him stood a woman, a simple civilian, who wasn't afraid to stand up to the Bat. She hadn't even given a second thought to standing up against his tormentor, his bully. He hated to admit any form of weakness, but Angela saving him had been the most delightful surprise he had experienced in ages.

"Please, Angela, stay here with me," he said as he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "Please, let me guide you through the power of fear. Please, please stay."

Her skin warmed at the feeling of his soft kisses against her hand. She couldn't stand the gentle sensation. In that moment, she didn't crave his gentle touch. She wanted to be crushed by his attention. She inhaled deeply and held her breath as she pulled the gas mask from her face. She grasped the hair at the back of his head and pulled him down to meet her crushing kiss. His lips parted complacently to her devouring kiss and he growled in delight as he pulled her body close to his.

The moment she pulled away to place the mask back over her face he missed the feeling of her body against his. She looked to him and saw that his eyes had glazed over. His chest rose and fell as he was just as out of breath as she was.

The man strapped to the testing seat began crying, reminding Angela and Jonathan that he was there. He had been silently hallucinating throughout their entire exchange. Angela looked down at the syringe in her hand and then back at Jonathan.

"Tell me what to do," she said softly.

Jonathan grinned before placing his mask back over his head. "It's quite simple, actually. Inject him with the toxin, and then we watch what happens next."

Angela turned the syringe in her hand contemplatively. "Will it kill him?"

Jonathan frowned beneath the mask now. "let me tell you a little something about myself, Angela. I do not take part in mindless killing. My interests are purely scientific. If this man dies, it will all be in the name of science. This is the price Gotham will pay for research in the study of fear. Besides," he added snidely, "Take a look at the tattoo on this one's neck. I think you'll feel much less guilty about your actions."

Angela tilted her head curiously as she approached the man in the chair. Her brow creased as she leaned down to look at the mark on the side of the man's neck, and a sudden rage built within her. Tattooed above the man's collar bone was a J, and a jester beside it. "Joker gang," she growled under her breath.

"Precisely, and he's quite important if he was able to achieve a mark such as this. He's a criminal, Angela. I saw what he did during the Arkham riots. He may not have been around to help in your father's death, but believe me when I say he's no innocent."

"Please, please, make it stop," the man gasped as he rocked back and forth in his seat.

Jonathan frowned beneath his mask. "You weren't nearly as pathetic as him when I gave you the same toxin," he told Angela with disgust clear in his tone.

"Wouldn't it be dangerous to mix the toxins?" She asked. "Shouldn't we wait until the first dose wares off?"

Jonathan chuckled. "I do believe you're stalling, my dear. We'll have plenty of chances to test it under different conditions, believe me. Now go on, do as I've asked," he commanded, growing more serious.

Angela steeled herself with determination. She wondered if she was capable of doing this. She wanted to do it. The Joker and his goons had had a direct hand in the loss of her father. If what Jonathan said was true, then this man deserved whatever fate awaited him at the end of the needle. But she wondered if she could live with the chance of him dying. Well, she thought, you never know what you're capable of until you try.

Angela grabbed the man by his short hair and tilted his head back gently. He whimpered softly as he looked up at her. She met his look with one of sympathy. "Please, let me go," he begged. "Please, I won't tell anyone. I won't say a word, sweet cheeks, just let me go."

Angela's look of sympathy turned to disgust when he called her sweet cheeks. She gripped his hair tightly, making him wince. "Don't call me that," she growled as she roughly pulled his head back further. She let her rage take over as she jabbed the needle into his chest and pressed down on the plunger. The man's eyes bulged in shock as he released a sputtering gasp. Angela pulled away from him as if he had burned her. She took another step back as he began to cry.

Jonathan grabbed her arm to keep her in place. Another step back and she would have walked into his medical cart. She looked shaken up so he kept his hold on her. "Breath Angela," he told her in a soothing tone. "This is all going to go just fine. No guilt, no blame. If this goes badly it will be on me and no one else."

She took a slow, deep breath and nodded. He released his hold on her and stepped toward their patient. Jonathan placed his middle and index finger against the man's wrist to check his pulse – it was erratic, as was to be expected. He grabbed a flashlight off of the medical cart and observed the patients pupils. Dilated. Sweat had begun to form on the man's brow, he was panting erratically and whimpering.

Angela watched curiously as Jonathan returned to the cart and picked up a tape recorder. He cleared his throat ceremoniously before hitting record.

"Patient interview one," he began. "Patient's name is… oh my, how rude of me. I never thought to ask. No matter."

"My name is Oscar, you sick fuck," the man whimpered.

"Oscar it is then," Jonathan continued, undeterred. "Alongside me is my faithful colleague. Say hello, dear."

Angela froze as he held the recorder up to her.

"Go on then," he urged.

"Hey," she said uncomfortably into the recorder.

"How shall we be addressing you tonight, dear? We clearly can't use your name over these recordings."

She thought for a moment about her prior conversation with Edward. "Call me Rook."

Angela could see the corners of Jonathan's darkening eyes crinkle through the holes of the mask, indicating that her choice in name pleased him enough to make him smile. It made her uncomfortable. Without the mask Jonathan hardly ever allowed much expression to pass over his face, but anytime he donned the mask of the Scarecrow he seemed to convey more expression than ever before. It was as if the mask were his true face.

"Rook," he purred through his mask. "I quite like it. Rook," he said once more as if savoring the taste of the word on his tongue. "I suppose I'll have to tell Eddie he was right after all. Now where we're we?" the Scarecrow said as he snapped his attention back towards his patient. "Ah yes, patient's name is Oscar. Oscar has volunteered to run preliminary trials of my latest toxin. Thus far the compound's immediate effect has included rapid pulse, perspiration, and dilation of the pupils."

"Something's happening," Angela interrupted his monologue. Oscar was violently shaking as he stared ahead of him, as if seeing an apparition. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "He's seeing something," she observed. Angela felt a rush of adrenaline course through her. She had never thought of how intriguing it could be to be on the other side of the toxin. She watched in rapture as the thug began to struggle uncontrollably in his binding.

"Let me go! I have to get out of here!" Oscar began to scream.

Angela leaned in closer to the man, looking into his eyes as if she might be able to find the reflection of what he was seeing. "Tell me, what is it? What are you seeing?" She breathed.

As curious as he was, the Scarecrow made a point to stand back and observe their interaction. He felt a sick sense of pride in the fact that Rook was taking such a keen interest in their patient.

"It's so loud! Make it stop. I can't take it anymore!" Oscar began to wail. The muscles in his arms tensed up as if he were trying to move them to cover his ears from the sound, but he was tightly strapped into place.

"Sonophobia," the Scarecrow said with a delighted snicker.

Angela swiveled in place to look at him, curious of his observation. "Sono? You mean sound?"

"Loud noises in particular," he added.

"But sound can't be seen," she said, tilting her head in confusion. "He's seeing something, what is it?"

"That is yet to be discovered," the Scarecrow tapped a syringe clad finger against the chin of his mask, as if he were thinking. "Perhaps you can coax the answers from him?"

She turned back toward their patient and sighed as she brushed a sweaty lock of hair from his brow. "Hush now, Oscar," she began in a gentle tone. Oscar's screams slowly died down to bitten back whimpers.

"Make it stop. Please just make it stop," he whined.

"Tell me what you see, Oscar. Tell me what you see and I promise we'll make it all go away," her tone was soft and sultry. Scarecrow watched curiously as she combed her fingers through the man's short hair almost lovingly, as a mother would to her child.

"They-they're all dead," Oscar wept. "They're all dead in the water, and it is so damn loud!" He began sobbing again. "Dark, light, dark, light. I couldn't see a damn thing! It wasn't my fault!"

The Scarecrow snickered behind her, having already figured it out. "What is it?" She asked as she turned back towards him.

"Figure it out for yourself," he said, suddenly turning stern, as if he were reprimanding a student for cheating on a test.

Angela took a step back and thought for a moment. She felt the gears of her mind working, as if she were trying to solve one of Edward's riddles. The man had mentioned a few key things. Loud noises, water, death, and the flicker of light to dark. The Scarecrow observed her with delight. He could practically see the pieces falling together in her mind.

Angela's mouth opened for a moment as if she were going to state her answer aloud, but after a brief moment of thought she closed her mouth and turned back towards the patient. Angela's lips curved slightly upwards beneath her gas mask, knowing that her newly decided course of action would please her mentor far more than saying her answer aloud would. She looked once more at the man's Joker gang tattoo. It was a simple way to remind herself that she would have no regrets for what she was about to do.

"Hush now, Oscar," she said softly as she leaned down towards her patient, brushing his hair back again. The thug's sobs began to subside into short whimpers. The Scarecrow stepped forward in protest that she was making his delightful screams come to an end, but she held her hand out to stop him. When she shot an intense glare back at him he took a step back with an irritated frown forming beneath his mask.

Refocusing on her patient, Angela continued, "It's okay, Oscar. After all, there was nothing you could do. You couldn't save them all, right?" She cooed in a bitter sweet tone.

"You're right," he told her as tears streamed down his face. "I never should have made them go."

"Shh, it's alright now, Oscar. How about a song? Would a song calm you down, Oscar?" She spoke gently, as if trying to comfort a small child. He whimpered and nodded in agreement.

Scarecrow watched closely and curiously as he saw the corners of Angela's eyes crinkle from what he suspected was a devious grin beneath her mask. He wasn't sure what she was up to, but whatever it was, it was sure to be a delight. Angela walked around her patient until she stood behind him. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders and leaned in close to him as she began to sing in a soft lull.

"The big ship sails on the ally-ally-oh

The ally-ally-oh, the ally-ally-oh

Oh, the big ship sails on the ally-ally-oh

On the last day of September."

Scarecrow watched on in awe as Oscar began to sob at the mention of a ship. He began pleading, begging for her to stop, yet she continued.

"The big ship sank to the bottom of the sea

The bottom of the sea, the bottom of the sea

The big ship sank to the bottom of the sea

On the last day of September."

Her tone was soft and chilling as she continued. The sound of her voice was nearly drowned out by the horrified screams that were echoing through the room.

"We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea

The deep blue sea, the deep blue sea

We all dip our heads in the deep blue sea

On the last day of September."

Oscar's eyes grew wide as his screams filled the room. His muscles tensed and spammed as he shook uncontrollably in his seat until everything came to a sudden stop. He let out one final, shuddering breath before his head fell back against the seat and his dead eyes stared up toward the ceiling. The look of horror was cemented on his face. Angela released her hold on his shoulders and took a silent step back.

Jonathan removed his mask and let it fall to the floor as he moved toward their patient and pressed his fingers to the man's neck in search of a pulse. There was nothing.

"Cardiac arrest," he said in amazement as he looked back at Angela. "I believe you've figured out what the man's fear was, Rook."

She nodded softly, still slightly startled at what she had just done. "He lost a boating crew during a storm. I thought the song was fitting. I didn't know it would…" she shook her head as she found herself getting lost in the dead stare of the body in front of her. "I should go," she said as she sidestepped Jonathan. "I don't want to be around for you to clean this up."

As she was about to reach the door to exit the lab Jonathan caught her arm. "You did well, my dear. Don't let it get to you." He released her arm as she gave a soft nod and she exited the room without another word.

Jonathan held the tape recorder up as he approached his deceased patient. "Final notes: Patient has suffered from cardiac arrest. The toxin, along with Rook's coaxing, has triggered a mental collapse. Further study of this strain of toxin will be needed, as well as further study of my new companion. I do believe the Rook will be a sublime addition to my practice of fear."


	29. Chapter 29

Jonathan paced quietly within the confines of his lab. It had been several hours since his last experiment and the disposal of the body. He was too busy contemplating the results of his study to have heard the knob of the door to Wonder City turning. He quickly snapped back into reality when he saw that Edward had crept out of his hiding place and was now standing before him, covered in soot, with a pile of metal parts cradled in his hands.

"I see you've been quite busy, Edward," Jonathan stated simply.

"I could say the same about you," came Edward's response. "I've gotta say, you really know how to clean up after yourself, Jon. There's not a thing in sight that shows you had a captive sitting in your chair not too long ago. What did you do, stuff him in the fridge?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes at his colleague's assumption. "No, Edward. I called in a cleaning crew. You know I don't like to leave garbage lying around."

Edward let out a chuckle. "Oh, so they took Angela with them too, did they?"

Jonathan shot back a cold look. "Very funny, Edward. She's still here. I'm assuming she's in the bedroom, but I haven't checked on her since we completed the experiment."

Edward raised a well groomed brow at Jonathan's choice of words. "We? As in the both of you conducted the experiment? Together?"

"Yes, Edward. I think it went quite well, actually. I was able to coax her into administering the toxin. She even pushed our patient into cardiac arrest. It was quite a display. I don't believe she'll be putting up a fight against my teachings any longer."

For once, Edward looked dumbstruck. "Cardiac arrest? She gave that brute a heart attack? Our little Angie did that?" he beamed proudly at the thought. "Well I suppose I should go and congratulate her then," he said as he strutted towards the door.

"I would rather you didn't, Edward," Jonathan interjected. "As I said, I haven't spoken to her since the event, and I highly doubt she even wants to see you after that cowardly move you pulled on her not too long ago."

"Hey," Edward protested, "if it weren't for that cowardly move I pulled, you never would have had the opportunity to bond over your spooky science experiment, so you're welcome," he grinned as he pat Jonathan on the shoulder and stepped out of the room.

"I'm serious, Ed. Don't bother her," Jonathan said sharply as a followed Edward out.

"Fine, fine. I have work to get done anyway," he said as he put his collected guardian parts down at his work station.

Jonathan stood by, waiting for Edward to get settled into his work, just to be sure that he wouldn't change his mind about bothering Angela. After a moment Jonathan let out a soft huff and headed toward the bedroom door. He hesitated to grasp the knob, knowing that it was possible that Angela would be in turmoil after being a factor in someone's death.

He quietly turned the knob and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He noticed that the lights were turned off. He felt as if he should just exit the room but for some reason he stepped forward quietly in the dark and approached the cot that she usually preferred.

"You don't have to be so quiet," he heard Angela say from across the room. "I'm not asleep."

"Oh," Jonathan said, actually surprised. "Why are you lying awake in the dark, and in my cot?"

"I don't know," she responded grogily. "I just wanted to lay down, I didn't think it mattered where."

Jonathan approached the cot she was laying in and sat on the floor beside it. "Can we talk?"

Angela turned over to face him. In the darkness she couldn't make out much detail, but she could see that he was sitting with his back leaned against the side of the cot. "Sure, we can talk. Though to be honest I'm drifting in and out of consciousness at the moment, so I may not be the best conversationalist."

Jonathan gave a soft chuckle. "I may be an insomniac, but you sleep far too much."

"It's not my fault you've been putting me through hell and back," she mumbled.

Jonathan ignored the jab and asked what he felt was necessary to ask. "How are you feeling, Angela?"

Angela let out a long sigh. "This isn't another one of your therapy sessions, is it Doctor Crane?" She asked half jokingly.

"Only if you want it to be. Though I'm being serious. I want to know how you're doing. It's not every day you take part in a man's death. I need to know that you're still in the right state of mind. Not many people can handle something like that without going through some form of trauma."

Angela laid quietly for a moment in thought. "I don't know how I feel," she said after a moment. "I mean I certainly don't feel traumatized, but it's just a mix of a lot of emotions going through me at the moment."

Through the darkness she saw Jonathan's head tilt in curiosity. "List the emotions off for me then. I want to understand."

"I guess I mostly just feel numb," she responded. "In the moment everything felt pretty exhilarating, though. I've never felt so in control, but once he stopped moving… well, it was just an odd sensation. I felt powerful, then frightened, and now I just feel sort of indifferent. I know what happened in the lab was wrong. No one should have that kind of power over people. I guess I just feel guilty about not feeling guilty. Isn't that strange?"

"Not entirely. Witnessing death is difficult to cope with at first, but eventually people do get used to it. Being the reason for someone's death can be entirely different, but I don't believe that you were the reason for that man's death. The toxin would have gotten to him eventually, you just helped him along. There's nothing to feel guilty about," he reassured her. "But what about the experience frightened you?" he asked with piqued interest.

"I knew I made the wrong choice of words," she huffed as she turned over in the cot to face away from him again. "I suppose I was just frightened to be in a room with a dead body. Or maybe it was the fear of being caught for what I had done. Or perhaps it was even that small bit of toxin I inhaled when I first stepped into the lab."

Jonathan sighed and rested his head back against the cushion of the cot. "You have no reason to fear any of that, my dear. As a matter of fact, you have no reason to fear anything anymore. I'm going to show you what it's like to master your fears. Do I still have your acceptance in my offer?"

Angela pulled the blankets closer to her as she felt a chill run through her. "Nothing has changed," she told him. "I still want to be a part of this. I'm not going to shy away from everything you've offered me anymore."

"Good," he said in relief. Angela felt the frame of the cot shake and knew that he was as cold as she was in the underground room. He was shivering enough to make the cot shake, and knowing that he was sitting on the concrete floor, she figured he was probably feeling much colder than she was.

"You can join me up here if you want to. I'm sure the floor isn't very comfortable," she offered.

Angela heard Jonathan move to stand up. She had expected him to sit at the edge of the cot as they continued their conversation. What she wasn't expecting was for him to lift the sheet and curl up against her on what little space there was.

"This isn't what I meant," she said stiffly as her muscles grew tense.

"I know it isn't," he said plainly, "but what better way is there for me to warm up?" he said as he wrapped a thin arm around her and held her tightly against him.

"You could have gotten your own cot, for starters," she grumbled as she tried to pull his freezing hand from her waist to no avail.

"You're in my cot, remember, little Rook?" he teased. "And besides, you offered so willingly." He nuzzled his nose against her neck and inhaled her warm smell. She gave a short shriek at the sensation and squirmed in his arms as he buried his nose deeper.

"Jonathan, cut it out!" she yelped as his nuzzling tickled her neck.

Jonathan released a sigh of content as he ceased his motions and simply held her close. He let the warmth of her body wash over him and suddenly he was feeling tired himself. "So warm," he murmured as he pressed his hand against the bare skin of her stomach beneath her shirt. He felt another chill run through her, but he suspected that it was not simply due to the cold this time.

"Angela," he began softly, "I want you to know that my offer from earlier will always be open to you. If you ever want to leave then the door is open for you. You need not stay here if it's not what you want. You can leave at any time."

He felt the tenseness of her muscles finally settle before she turned over to face him. "I'm not going anywhere, Jonathan," she told him. "I've already made my choice. There's nothing I want back from my old life and I have no interest in making a new one for myself. What you've offered me, that's a once in a lifetime deal. I'm not interested in giving that up. I'll tell you this once, so please don't ask me again. This is where I want to be. I don't have any doubts about that anymore."

Jonathan released a sigh of relief and pressed his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Angela tilted her head upwards and pressed her lips gently against his, catching him off guard. "It's not just this life I'm choosing," she said. "It's you too. I want you, Jonathan. I want to experience everything you have to offer. As a mentor, as a man, you're the one I want."

Jonathan struggled to process her words for a moment. "You want me?" He asked dumbfounded. "Are you sure that's what you want, Angela?" He found the idea hard to believe considering all he had put her through, but he couldn't deny that he had wanted her too. The fact that someone would willingly return his affections was difficult for him to process.

"Yes," she said with a small chuckle. "Is it really so hard to believe?"

"Actually it is," he said, a hint of sadness in his tone.

Angela felt a pang of guilt run through her. She had never considered why he always masked his emotions, but now she had an idea why. It was more than likely that Jonathan had had a difficult social life in his youth. They had never spoken about it, but it was more than evident now.

"Yes, Jonathan," she told him as she cupped his face in her hands. "I want you." She leaned forward and placed another gentle kiss against his lips, this time deepening the kiss when he finally wrapped his arms around her again.

Jonathan sighed contentedly into the kiss as he delighted in her warmth, the softness of her lips, and her soft curves pressed against him. He groaned as she curled her fingers into his hair and nipped softly at his lower lip. In this moment he felt heat pump through his veins. He felt as if a fire was lit just beneath the surface of his skin, and he worried that he would burn her if she held onto him any longer. His concern caused him to break the kiss and pull away from her. With the moment broken, he was somewhat relieved to feel the chill of the air again.

Angela was quite surprised at how suddenly he had pulled away from her, but she didn't allow it to bruise her ego. Instead, she put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. She understood that his feelings towards her were just as complicated as her feelings towards him were, and she was in no rush to push things forward between them. They laid in silence for some time, basking in the warmth of one another, before they both slowly drifted off to sleep.

When Jonathan awoke it was with a sudden jolt, a cold sweat on his brow. He sat up quickly with the realization that he was lying alone in his cot. He whipped his head around the room and realized that Angela was sitting cross-legged on another cot with her laptop sitting in her lap. The light of her laptop illuminated her face in the darkness as she looked up to meet his gaze.

"You were having a bad dream," she told him as she stood to turn the lights on.

Jonathan wiped the sweat from his brow and cleared the sleep from his throat. "I'm sorry," he said, voice still raspy. "Did I wake you?"

"You did," she told him honestly as she sat at the end of his cot. "You're not very fun to sleep with," she chuckled.

Jonathan grinned and rose a brow at her. "I do hope I can change your mind about that some day."

Angela blushed furiously, not realizing that her joke would backfire on her. "What was your dream about?" she asked, quickly trying to change the subject.

Jonathan put his glasses back on after realizing that they had somehow ended up folded neatly on the floor. He shrugged in response to her question. "I don't quite remember, which is just fine with me. If it was a bad dream then there's a likely answer to what it could be and I don't want to think about it."

"Something from your past?" She asked cautiously.

"I said I don't want to think about it," he responded sharply as he stood, "which means I don't want to talk about it either."

Angela felt as though she had been slapped in the face as Jonathan's emotional walls slammed shut on her. She was baffled at how quickly he could go from being playful to being ice cold. He moved to walk away but she quickly caught him by the wrist and pulled him back to her.

"Wait," she said sternly. "You can't just walk away on me like that." He tried to pull his wrist from her grasp but she had a surprisingly tight hold on him. "Jonathan, just stop!" she shouted as she struggled to keep her grip on him. When he finally stopped moving she was met with an icy glare. His eyes were clouding over to that stormy gray, his cheeks were flushed red with anger, and his chest rose and feel with rapid breath.

For a moment she was frightened, she had seen that look on him before and it had never resulted in any good fortune. However, he did not continue to struggle. He simply held his ground and waited for her to speak.

"Just talk to me," she said softly.

Jonathan saw the tender look in her eyes. He could see that she truly cared, that she truly wanted to understand, but it was too much for him to take in all at once. She watched quietly as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. She was expecting him to finally let her in, however, all he was doing was mentally preparing to put up more walls.

When he opened his eyes again he quickly snatched his wrist from her hold. "We don't have time for this kind of nonsense," he hissed. "There are more important things that need to get done. Meet me in the lab when you're ready."

Without another word he turned and left the room, leaving Angela speechless.


	30. Chapter 30

Jonathan was hand drying his equipment with a rag as he heard the door to his lab swing open and slam shut. He had been patiently awaiting his guest for the past half an hour as she did whatever it was women did to feel clean and prepared for the day. He could feel her glaring at him, but he simply took his time to finish drying the beaker he held and gently set it down on the counter. He folded the rag and set it down before turning to face her.

Angela stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a form fitting black T-shirt, a pair of black sweat pants, and sneakers. Her dark hair was still wet from her shower, but was brushed back in its usual fashion. She began to tap her foot impatiently as she waited for him to speak.

He simply stared back at her, waiting for her composure to break. After several long and awkward moments of silent staring she rolled her eyes petulantly and sighed. "Fine, I'll go first," she said. "Why did you want me here?"

A soft smile graced his lips as a small sense of satisfaction washed over him. If she wanted to be childish then he could easily play that game. "I'm so glad you asked," he said smugly as he stood from his seat. He removed his glasses, gaining Angela's attention, and set them down on the counter. He approached a tall cabinet and pulled a rolled up mat from inside.

Angela's head tilted in curiosity as she watched him unroll the blue mat and step onto it before gesturing for her to join him. "You're joking, right?" She asked.

"Not in the slightest. Come join me. We're going to spar."

Angela's brow creased in frustration. "No we're not," she told him sternly. "I'm hardly in the mood for this."

"And why is that? Afraid I might win, little Rook?" A grin spread across his face as he taunted her. His pale eyes held a glimmer of excitement that she noticed now that his glasses weren't there to help hide his expression.

"I'm almost sure you'll win, but that hardly frightens me. I'm just not interested in doing this after the way you were acting in the room. You turn ice cold towards me, and now you want me to snap into protégé mode? That's not fair to me."

Jonathan sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, already exhausted with this conversation. "Very well then, Angela. If you want to know so badly what it is that haunts my dreams, then fine. Let me make this offer a bit more interesting for you. If you win I will tell you what I was dreaming about."

Angela looked at him suspiciously as she thought it over for a moment. After a few seconds she shrugged and said, "Fine. At least this gives me an excuse to throw a couple punches at you." She removed her shoes and joined him on the mat.

Jonathan chuckled, "Oh, you think it's just that simple, do you? I have conditions of my own of course."

Angela crossed her arms over her chest once more. "What kind of conditions?"

He took a step closer to her, leaning in close before he spoke. "If I am to win, I get to hear that precious scream of yours." A wicked grin spread across his face that sent a chill down her spine.

She stood in thought for a moment before laying down her conditions. "No toxin," she told him.

Jonathan chuckled as he took a step back. "Who ever said I needed toxin to make you scream?"

Angela eyed him suspiciously once more. "And no hurting. You promised you wouldn't hurt me again."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said as he began to stretch. "Though I can't promise you won't get hurt during the match. It is sparring after all."

"Hmm, fine then," Angela agreed as she began stretching on her side of the mat. What damage could he really do with just his words?

"Very well then," he said as a predatory grin spread across his face. "Let us begin."

Jonathan stood across from her on the mat. He took a step to his left. She responded with a step to her left. They continued like this, circling the mat as they sustained an even distance from one another. Angela's gaze was intense as she focused on the movements of his body. He quickly switched his step to the opposite direction and she was attentive enough to follow.

"Very good," he said, satisfied with her reaction time. He suddenly lunged at her. She avoided him by a fraction of an inch before jumping away to put distance between them again. He turned and noticed her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath. He had caught her off guard, and she was surprised that she had barely gotten away.

He slowly began to close the distance between them, so slowly that she hardly noticed how close he was until it was too late. He threw a punch in her direction with his right hand and struck her in the ribs. She gasped at the force of it and staggered back. He gave her a moment to recuperate as she rubbed at the sore spot and caught her breath.

Jonathan delighted in the look she threw his way. There was fire in her eyes, anger. It excited him. She lunged forward and threw a left hook at him. He blocked it with his forearm, quickly responding with another jab to the ribs.

Angela gasped in pain, but she let her anger fuel her. She threw another punch in his direction, catching him off guard and hitting him in the chest. She tried to hit him again, but he quickly caught her by the wrist and began to twist her arm. She cried out in pain as she fell to her knees.

"Now, dear, I thought we agreed to save the screaming until after the match," he chuckled as he twisted her arm more.

Angela screamed louder in pain as she thought her arm would break. Her anger flared. She reached out for his leg with her free arm, gritting her teeth through the pain as she caught hold of him and pulled his leg toward her. As his leg slipped out from under him he released her arm and fell to the mat on his back.

With the air forced out of his lungs, Jonathan was momentarily immobilized as he tried to catch his breath. Angela took the moment to cradle her sore wrist against her chest and hissed in pain as she massaged it. The moment he tried to move she ceased her actions and pounced on him. She climbed over him and aimed a blow at his face that he barely dodged.

"Aiming for the face, Angela? That's a dirty move," he hissed. She ignored him and threw another punch his way, this time connecting with the side of his jaw. Jonathan growled in frustration as he reached up and grabbed her by her short hair, pulling her head to the side and knocking her off of him.

Angela flailed her limbs in protest as she tried to pry his hand from her hair. Despite the pain of her nails digging into his arm, Jonathan kept a hold on her. "If you want to play dirty then we can play dirty, Angela," he shouted as he tugged her head towards the ground. With his free hand he grabbed one of her wrists and pressed it to the mat. He replaced his hold on it with his knee, using his weight to keep her in place. He then did the same with her other arm. By doing this he was able to release her hair and pin her in place by using his bodyweight, giving him the ability to use his hands.

Angela struggled to breath, considering that he was sitting right on top of her sternum in order to keep her arms pinned. Jonathan looked down at her and smiled smugly as she glared at him. He reached down and gently delved his fingers into her hair, massaging her sore scalp as he spoke. "You look quite lovely when you're angry, my dear," he told her softly as he leaned in close, "especially when you're pinned beneath me so helplessly. I do believe I've won."

Angela growled in frustration. She tried to squirm out from underneath him but it only succeeded in amusing him. As he laughed at her feeble attempt an idea came to her. She caught him off guard as she curled her abdomen and rocked her lower body upwards, succeeding in latching her calves around his neck and yanking him backwards. Jonathan choked audibly as he was knocked off of her. She rolled, releasing her hold on him, and they became a tangled mess of limbs.

They each struggled to get the upper hand as they clamored over one another. Eventually Angela got to her feet and jumped back in an attempt to gain space. Unfortunately Jonathan was quick enough to keep up. She began to panic and ended up backing herself into a wall.

Jonathan, now furious that he had lost the upper hand, quickly reached out and pressed his hand against her neck, pinning her to the wall. He was careful not to press against her windpipe, allowing her to still breath, but he could feel her pulse racing beneath his fingertips.

"I've won, Angela," he hissed between labored breaths.

"What makes you say that?" She huffed with fire in her eyes.

A wide grin spread across his face as he replied. "You stepped off of the mat first. That's a forfeit. Though I'll be honest, you put up a good fight."

Angela's fire died out, panic quickly replacing it. He felt her pulse race faster beneath his fingers, delighting him to no end. He drew closer to her, speaking softly in her ear. "Are you frightened, my dear? Afraid of what happens next?"

Angela trembled at the feel of his words in her ear. "No," she lied as her heart kept it's erratic tempo. "I already told you, Jonathan, I'll never be afraid again."

Jonathan felt a fire run through his veins at the boldness of her of the signs of her fear were laid out before him, clear as day. Yet she still found the courage to lie and say she was not afraid. He took a brief moment to search her eyes, and in that moment he felt himself doubting his own assessment. There was something else there in her eyes, something just as primal and essential as fear, but entirely different. True, her pulse was racing, but her cheeks were flushed. Her posture was too relaxed, and he knew it was something entirely different when she bit softly at her lower lip, looking up at him through fluttering lashes. No, this was not fear, he decided, this was lust.

"Very well then. I'll buy your lie for now," he told her as he closed what little space there was between them. He watched closely as her pupils dilated further and her breath caught in her throat, thus proving his theory. He had intended to hear her scream with the power of his words alone, but noticing her reaction to his presence sent his mind reeling in a completely different direction. "I suppose I'll just have to skip fear altogether in order to hear you scream."

Jonathan released her throat and grasped her by the hips. She gasped as he hoisted her up, causing her to react by wrapping her legs around his waist and her hands holding tight onto his shoulders. She yelped as he pressed her back against the wall for support and began to press kisses against her neck.

Angela gasped in surprise at his actions. This hadn't been what she was expecting, not at all, but it was certainly a welcome surprise. Her head tilted back and she moaned softly at the gentle caress of his lips pressed against her skin. She felt her heartbeat quicken as warmth flooded her body. "Jonathan," she breathed softly, causing him to groan at the sound of his name on her lips, "bring me to the mat," she said, her voice shaking.

"I can thinking nothing I would rather do," he told her as he carried her over to the mat and sat with her still in his arms. He pressed his lips against hers in a fervent kiss as he put a hand behind her head and guided her back against the mat. He groaned as she kept her legs wrapped around his waist and pressed her hips forward into his. He could feel the warmth of her body through their clothes and it drove him mad.

Feeling him grow hard for her encouraged her to continue her motions. Angela moaned into the kiss as she continued to grind against him. He eventually broke their kiss to move downwards and create a trail of kisses down her neck. He nipped lightly at her collarbone, causing her to groan in delight. He took this as a sign of approval and decided to bite a bit harder into the curve of her neck. She moaned loudly as she clung tightly to him and her back arched, causing her chest to press against him.

Jonathan smiled into the curve of her neck at her reaction, and placed a gentle kiss against where he had just bitten. He continued his trail downwards and over the fabric of her shirt. As he reached the swell of her breasts he nuzzled his face against her and inhaled her scent deeply, trying to take in the moment.

He wanted her. He realized that he had wanted her for some time now, and seeing how much she wanted him was nearly driving him mad. His hands fumbled to find the bottom of her shirt, urging her to take hold of it and help him remove it. Jonathan sat up and looked down at her, taking in the sight of her smooth tan skin. He gently ran the fingers of his left hand over the lace trim on her bra, while the other kept a grasp on the curve of her waist.

Angela looked up at him and watched him become enraptured at the sight of her body. She felt a chill of excitement run through her as he continued to run his hands gently over her skin. In this moment, she found herself living for his reaction to her body. With this in mind, she arched her back and reached behind herself in order to undo the clasp of her bra. She watched as he nearly stopped breathing altogether as she removed the garment completely. When he was finally able to remember how to breath, he looked up and met her gaze. His eyes were beginning to turn that stormy gray once again. It both thrilled and frightened her.

Jonathan took a deep breath to try and keep himself level headed. "Do you want this?" he asked as he held her gaze. Angela simply nodded in response. Jonathan shook his head, "No," he told her, "I need to hear you say it."

"Yes, Jonathan," she said as she reached up to pull his face towards her own. She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. "I want this. I want you. Please, don't stop."

Fueled by her consent, Jonathan deepened their kiss before continuing from where he had left off. He pressed open mouthed kisses over the swell of one breast as his hand gently caressed the other. She gasped and moaned as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. She laced her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue. As her moans echoed through the room she could feel Jonathan's hands begin to tremble against her skin.

Jonathan lifted his head from her chest and met her gaze. His cheeks were flushed and he was panting softly. There was a primal and desperate look in his eyes as he grasped one of her hands and guided it down his body, silently begging for her touch. Angela obliged his request and pressed her hand against the bulge in his pants. He paused in his motions completely, opting to focus on his breathing as she gently stroked him through his pants. He felt himself lose the support of his arms as he slowly melted into her touch.

After a moment he gained control of himself again and continued his attention on her breasts. Angela decided she enjoyed the feeling of Jonathan losing control of himself. Immediately missing that feeling, she decided to kick things up a notch. She slipped a hand past the waistband of his pants and wrapped her hand around his shaft. Jonathan instantly collapsed against her and whined against her skin as his hips jerked forward into her touch.

Trying to gain back his control, Jonathan grasped her wrist and urged her to stop. She let go and allowed him to pin her wrists by her head. "I'm in no rush, Angela," he told her breathlessly, "and besides, I did promise to make you scream." A predatory grin spread across his face as he noticed a chill run through her at his words.

He released her wrists and began a trail of kisses down her body. He paused at the waistline of her sweat pants, teasing her as he kept his attention just above it. He grinned as she began to squirm uncomfortably. Eventually fed up with waiting she reached down to remove the pants herself, but her actions were immediately stopped as he grasped her wrists and pinned them to the mat by her head once more.

"Don't," he told her sharply as he met her with a cold stare. "I told you I'm in no rush. Now keep your hands there, understood?" Angela wanted to groan in protest, but she nodded nonetheless. "Good," he said as he went to continue where he left off.

He continued to press kisses just above her waistline. After a moment he decided to continue on and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pants. She instantly lifted her hips, allowing him to remove them completely, along with her underwear. Once they were removed he looked down at her appreciatively. Her hair was a mess and laid out like a halo around her head. Her cheeks were red and her lips were swollen from kissing. Her chest rose and fell as if she were out of breath. As exposed as she was, she held a confidence that was extraordinarily sexy. He found everything about her beautiful.

"You're a work of art," he told her as he reached down to caress her face.

Angela smiled softly at his kind words. "You're not so bad yourself," she winked.

Jonathan chuckled before pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. He continued his trail downwards, stopping again just above her waist. He grasped her legs and urged her to bend her knees and separate her legs, further exposing herself to him. He pressed open mouthed kisses against her inner thighs, starting by her knees and working his way up. He could feel her begin to tremble the further up he went.

Once his kisses reached the apex of her thighs, he looked up to find that she was staring down at him, a desperate look in her soft brown eyes. He kept eye contact as he flicked his tongue out against her outer lips. Angela gasped at the sensation, but kept her eyes on his. He saw this as a challenge and repeated the motion as he kept eye contact. Angela instantly caved and threw her head back as she moaned softly, wanting so much more.

Her back arched as he pressed his tongue flat against her, trailing it from the bottom of her slit to the top. She shuddered and gasped as he used a hand to spread her open. Jonathan hummed contentedly at the sight before him. She was already so wet and the scent of her arousal was heavy in the air. He pressed his tongue in slow circles around her clit, causing her to moan desperately as her back arched.

Angela clawed at the mat beneath her, trying so hard to resist the temptation of reaching down to delve her fingers into his hair, but she remembered his orders of keeping her hands where they were. She had no intention of letting him stop to reprimand her again. Jonathan looked up and noticed her internal struggle.

"You're welcome to move your hands now," he told her. He wasn't expecting her instant reaction as her hands flew down to grasp his hair. She pulled his head closer to her core and urged him to continue.

He responded kindly by thrusting his tongue into her. Angela responded with an echoing moan as she began to rotate her hips against his attention. Jonathan, finally deciding to deliver on his promise, used his thumb to press circles against her clit as he continued to thrust his tongue into her opening.

Angela's head fell back instantly, her back arching and her thighs held his head tightly between them as she felt a wave of heat flow through her. She was breathless at first, silent as the heat ripped through her nearly painfully. Then a sudden wave of pleasure came crashing over her and she allowed a scream of pleasure and ecstasy to escape her lungs. Jonathan lifted his head to watch her, but he continued the motions with his fingers, coaxing every bit of sound from her.

Slowly, her screams died out and her muscles relaxed as she regained control of herself. When she looked up she saw Jonathan hovering over her on his hands and knees, looking at her with an intense hunger in his eyes. "I want more," he said, his voice deep with lust. He leaned down and kissed her with an intensity she hadn't experienced before.

While they kissed Angela clawed at the fabric of his shirt, trying desperately to lift it from his body. Jonathan separated from her to remove it, allowing her the view of his bare chest. She lost her breath at the sight. She had completely forgotten about the pale scars that covered his torso since he always kept them covered. She hadn't thought about his scars since she had first noticed them that night in her apartment.

Angela reached out to trace some of the scars with her fingertips. She noticed the effect it had on him instantly. His fast breathing slowed, settling into a deep, calm sigh. His eyes closed and his expression turned to one of calm and bliss. "I almost forgot about your scars," she murmured.

"I haven't," he told her. "They're a constant reminder of the mistakes I've made." His brow creased at the mere thought of the error he had made during the Arkham Riots.

"It can't all be bad memories," she responded with a gentle smile. "After all, these scars are a reminder to me of the first time you kissed me," she told him as her smile slowly fell. "I remember that night quite clearly."

Jonathan frowned. "I realize now that my reaction to that situation my not have been ideal." He had felt slightly guilty about that. Not only had his kiss been unwarranted, but he had tried to intimidate her afterwards and caused her physical harm, leaving bruises around her wrist. He had been particularly cruel to her in the past. Had he felt as he did now, he would have never allowed himself to hurt her. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you, Angela."

The response of her kind smile made his chest tighten painfully. "I forgive you, Jonathan," she replied. "Though to be quite honest, I never expected you to be kind. I accept that that's not who you are. That's not what I signed up for."

"It satisfies me to hear that," He told her. "I never want to have to pretend that I'm someone I'm not, but no one deserves to be hurt by someone who claims to care for them."

She pulled him into a gentle kiss to show her gratitude. Jonathan hummed contentedly and deepened the kiss, his hunger for the warmth of her touch growing steadily. He groaned as she ran her hands over his body and clawed softly at his back as she wrapped her arms around him. He nipped at her neck and she moaned softly.

"I need more," he growled as he pressed himself against her.

"Then take it," she said breathlessly.

Jonathan quickly untangled himself from her and stood, walking over to one of the drawers in the lab. Angela's head tilted in curiosity as he rummaged through the drawer.

"What are you doing?" She asked, still surprised and a bit dazed at the fact that he had moved away from her.

"Getting this," he said as he held up a small, unmistakable packet.

Angela chuckled as he made his way back over to her. "Was this all planned?"

Jonathan gave her a devilish smile. "Not planned, but a man can hope, can't he?"

Angela bit her lip in anticipation as he stood in front of her. She could practically hear the thunder rolling behind his darkening eyes, a chill running through her at the sight of the storm. She sat up and teased the skin just above the waistline of his pants with the tips of her fingers. She watched as his eyes shut and he tried to keep his breathing steady. She saw his calm demeanor as a challenge to try harder, so she leaned forward and flicked her tongue against his waistline.

Jonathan growled softly at the sensation and delved a hand into her hair as he looked down to meet her eyes. She kept eye contact with him as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and slowly began to pull them downwards.

When she broke eye contact, Angela gasped softly at the sight in front of her. Jonathan grinned, delighted with her response to seeing him fully undressed. His hand tightened in her hair as she grabbed his shaft and began to caress him, feeling the weight of him as she began to stroke him slowly. He gasped as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the tip of his cock as she looked back up at him. The warmth of her lips was almost too much to bare.

"Lay back," he told her gruffly. Angela followed his order, watching intently as he opened the packet he had grabbed earlier and rolled the condom onto himself. He kneeled down and placed his hands between her knees and began to spread her legs apart. She was practically shaking with anticipation as he hovered over her, ready to enter her at any moment.

Jonathan met her eyes and delighted in the eagerness he saw behind them. He kept eye contact as he pressed his hips forward and entered her fully in one heavy thrust. He hissed in satisfaction as her scream echoed through the room and her arms latched around him as her nails clawed into his back. He stayed still for a moment as her scream died out into a soft moan.

"You feel amazing, Angela," he whispered softly in her ear.

Angela responded by wrapping her legs around him, encouraging him to move as she began to writhe beneath him to get any semblance of friction going. Jonathan looked down at her and grinned sardonically. He got a sense of cruel amusement from watching her struggle. "So eager, aren't we, little Rook," he chuckled.

"Jonathan, please," Angela whined as she bucked her hips upward.

"Well, since you asked so kindly," he said before nearly pulling out completely, then snapping his hips forward into her. More screams of pleasure escaped her lungs as he continued to pull out slowly before slamming back into her.

His pace was agonizing to her, but his rough thrusts hit her so deep that she could barely breath from the pleasure. "Faster," she moaned when she finally couldn't take it anymore.

Jonathan growled as her walls clenched tight around him, encouraging him to pick up his pace. He slipped an arm under her right knee and propped it above his shoulder, giving him better access. He did as requested and picked up the pace, causing her to moan and shudder as she clawed helplessly at anything she could get her hands on. Every sound that escaped her was like music to his ears. He groaned at the sensation as he slipped her other leg over his shoulder and used the leverage to pound into her at an uncontrollable rate.

Her head fell back and her back arched as her muscles clenched around him. She came hard as he continued his pace causing her to scream in pleasure. He finally slowed as her muscles began to relax and she came back to reality. Jonathan let her legs drop to his sides as he leaned forward to drink in her euphoria.

When Angela finally opened her eyes she saw how dark Jonathan's eyes had become. They resembled the pitch black of the Scarecrow's gaze. She gasped from a mixture of fear and excitement. An eerie grin spread across his face as he drank in her expression.

"Something have you spooked?" he chuckled darkly as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Your eyes," she said, little more than a whisper.

"What do you see, Angela?"

Angela bit her lip and kept silent, too afraid of what the answer was.

"Your expression says fear," Jonathan said as he caressed her cheek, "but this is telling me something else." He reached between them and brushed his thumb against her clit. He grunted as he heard her moan and felt her walls clench around him tightly. "Tell me what you see, Angela."

Angela moaned again at the at the sound of his voice coming out deep and gruff as he demanded her answer. "I see the Scarecrow," she told him breathlessly.

His eerie grin spread wider across his face at her answer. "Do you trust me, Angela?" He spoke to her quietly, his voice coming out like trees rattling in the wind. He sounded almost unlike himself.

Angela felt him press deeper into her, causing her back to arch and her chest to press into his. She gasped before nodding her head. "Yes, I trust you."

"Good," he whispered as he pressed circles against her clit with his thumb. "You've been so good, Angela." She shuddered and moaned at the sound of his voice, a delightful mixture of fear and ecstasy coursing through her. He knew he had her in the palm of his hand. He could finally ask her for what he desired more than anything. "Will you let the Scarecrow come out to play?" He asked, waiting patiently for her response.

Angela didn't think about it for more than a second. All she could think was that she wanted more. More of him, and whatever else was lurking beneath the surface of his calm facade. "Yes," she said. "Give me everything."

A wicked grin spread across his face sending a delightful chill down her spine. "Will you let me hurt you, Angela? I promise you'll enjoy it."

She exhaled a soft, "yes," as her head tilted back from the sensation of his fingers against her. She would take any offer he made if it promised more pleasure. A soft gasp escaped her as she saw his mask begin to crumble right before her eyes. It was both frightening and fascinating all at once. What he usually kept hidden was in plain sight for her now. A darkness passed over his features, and a twisted sense of pleasure reached his eyes.

"You've been so good, little Rook," he told her as he brushed back her hair. "I hope you're ready for this."

Angela gasped as he pulled out of her and maneuvered her onto her hands and knees before quickly slamming back into her from behind. He grasped tightly onto her hips as he began slow and lengthy thrusts into her. She groaned wantonly as his fingers dug into her sides. When she couldn't take the slow pace anymore she began to press back against him, urging him onwards.

He reached forward and delved his fingers into her hair, pulling back on it sharply, causing her back to arch uncomfortably. He continued to pull her back as he picked up the tempo, causing her to have to lean back and press her back against his chest as he pounded into her.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he growled against her neck. "Was my pace not to your liking?"

Angela released a breathless chuckle. "You promised me pleasure, didn't you?"

He used his free hand to slap her behind, reprimanding her for her comment. He growled as he felt her tighten around him from the action. He repeated the slap once more, delighting in the sensation of her walls rippling around him. He picked up his speed as requested and reveled in the moans he was rewarded with.

He released her hair but pressed her face forward into the mat. Angela shuddered and moaned at the sensation of the new position. He was hitting the perfect spot, causing her to see stars as she moaned uncontrollably.

Angela gasped as he took hold of her arms and bent them behind her back uncomfortably, using them as leverage as he thrust into her. "Jonathan," she cried out as the mixture of pleasure and pain began to push her towards the edge.

"I told you, Angela," he growled, "you're dealing with the Scarecrow now. I don't want to hear you say his name. There's only one thing I want to hear." He leaned forward, his face coming close to hear ear as he picked up the pace and pounded into her. "I want to hear you scream," he said, his voice coming out in a low growl.

Angela gasped as he released her arms, one hand reaching around to press circles against her clit, the other grasping tight around her throat. The pleasure was blinding as the pressure built inside of her. She could hear him grunting behind her, nearing his own completion as her walls clenched tightly around him. She couldn't make a sound with his hand wrapped around her throat, but she could feel herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. She squeezed her eyes shut as the pressure built. She couldn't make it all the way if she couldn't breathe.

Scarecrow suddenly released his tight grasp on her throat, allowing her to gasp in air before releasing an earsplitting scream. The sound brought him over the edge as he bucked erratically inside her. With the pressure finally released, Angela screamed and clawed at the mat as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. Her body shook and convulsed as she came harder than she ever had before. She heard him grunt and growl animalistically behind her, his rhythm finally slowing until he jerked his hips once more before collapsing against her.

They stayed like that for a moment before he finally rolled off of her, allowing her to turn over to look at him. His skin glistened with sweat and his chest rose and fell erratically. He had his eyes shut but there was a soft smile that graced his lips. Angela took in his disheveled look appreciatively. She grasped his chin and tilted his head in her direction.

"Look at me," she said breathlessly. His eyes cracked open and they were back to their clear, icy blue. "Jonathan,"she said, reassuring herself that she was speaking to the man and not the beast, "you're amazing."

Her gentle tone left him breathless. His eyes roamed over her skin and he noticed the light bruising on her hips and neck. "Angela," he said as he brushed his fingers through her dark and messy hair, "I apologize for marking you. I could hardly help myself, you felt so good." He pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek.

Angela yawned and stretched before a soft smile spread across her face. She reached for him to wrap her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. "That's okay," she said. "I certainly enjoyed myself."

Jonathan laid back and relaxed as she quickly fell asleep from exhaustion. He sighed contentedly before closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her, as he too fell into a calm and peaceful sleep.


	31. Chapter 31

The sound of footsteps fell heavily against the paved roofs of buildings. The sound struck Angela's ears as though it were happening far off in the distance and not right beneath her. The only thing she could hear clearly was the rattling of her lungs as she struggled to catch her breath. She could feel her lungs burning, struggling to send oxygen into her body, struggling to keep her going.

Her body ached but her feet continued to carry her from one rooftop to another. She felt the muscles in her calves and thighs cramping but she refused to stop. She felt her heart pounding against her chest, threatening to break out. More than anything, she felt fear threaten to escape her in the form of a terrified scream.

Angela couldn't quite remember how she had gotten into this situation, she could only remember how it had started. She had been standing on the roof of a building, high up and overlooking the gothic architecture of the older parts of the diamond district. She had been enjoying the cold sting of the winter air as it rushed against her skin, causing her eyes to water ever so slightly. She had always loved winter in Gotham, as harsh as it was, it had always felt exhilarating to run outside in the cold to later retreat to the warmth of home.

Just as she was enjoying the dazzling lights of the city, she felt the odd sensation of being watched. Angela felt a presence behind her but she didn't dare look. There wasn't any indication of who, or what it was that watched her. For all she knew it could have all just been in her head. It was an unsettling feeling that burried itself deep in her chest. In that moment her mind was forced into making a vital decision. She had to ask herself the only question that ever really mattered in the history of living things. Fight, or flight?

Before she even took a single step forward her mind calculated a path to follow over the rooftops. She would use each building as a step downwards in order to reach the ground. She hoped that whatever was behind her would not follow. Angela took a deep breath as her heart raced in her chest. The moment she lifted a foot off the ground she heard movement behind her, and instantly she took off.

Her feet carried her quickly from one rooftop to the next, her fear of heights somehow completely forgotten in all of this. With each roof she jumped to her legs threatened to collapse beneath her. As she ran she could hear heavy footsteps falling behind her, and the billowing of fabric as it ripped through the wind.

When she finally reached the lowest building, she was relieved to find that there was a fire escape she could use to reach the ground more easily. As she climbed lower down the grating she could hear the metal creaking and groaning abover her. She didn't dare to look up and see what it was that followed her. She reached the final landing and struggled to get the ladder lowered. The rusted metal had caused the ladder to become stuck. Angela's mind rushed to find a solution, but there was only one.

She looked over the railing of the fire escape, assessing the drop she would have to take. She was still stuck on the second floor and the footsteps behind her were getting closer and closer. She felt sweat form on her brow as she took a deep breath before she swung herself over the railing. She felt her feet hit the ground, but the fatuige she felt from her run caused her legs to collapse beneath her. Her ankle twisted painfully and she fell to the pavement with a shriek.

Her heart pounded as she heard her attacker reach the last landing of the fire escape just above her. She turned over on her back, finally facing what she had been running from. It was like a shadow, dark and formless as it jumped from the railing. The darkness swallowed up the night sky behind it and encompassed all light from the surrounding alley. Angela held her arm out in front of her as a final shield, but the darkness moved through her, encompassing her in a void that swallowed her whole. Her eyes went wide and a cry of horror escaped from her lungs. She felt a hand grasp her arm and suddenly she was ripped from the darkness.

Blinding white light disoriented her and she flailed and screamed as she tried to escape the grasp on her. "No," she cried out as she slapped a hand away from her.

"Angela, calm down," she heard a familiar voice say above her. The sound grounded her, her heart finally slowing it's erratic pace. She squeezed her eyes shut as she grasped at Jonathan and let him pick her up to hold her in his arms.

She wrapped her arms around him and burried her face in his neck. Jonathan held her tightly as he rocked her, shushing and cooing to her sweetly. "Now, now, child. It will be alright. It was just a nightmare," he murmured as he ran a hand over her hair.

Angela focused on the sound of his voice as she struggled to catch her breath. When she had finally settled down she opened her eyes, blinking a few times as the harsh white light of the lab assaulted her vision. She realized that they were still on top of the sparring mat, and she was still naked. Jonathan, however, had found the time to put pants on before waking her up.

She detangled herself from his hold as a blush heated her cheeks. "I should go wash up and get dressed," she muttered, suddenly feeling foolish for having such a reaction to a nightmare.

Jonathan nodded. "Edward is out so don't feel obligated to cover up," he told her. Angela quickly gathered her clothes from the previous night and rushed out of the lab.

Jonathan's head tilted to the side in curiosity. There was a sharp voice at the back of his mind that asked 'what was the dream about?' the voice wanted to know what had gotten her so worked up, what had her so deliciously afraid? The voice clawed away at his thoughts until it was the only thing he could think about. Jonathan suddenly found himself on his feet and heading towards the bathroom.

He turned the knob to the bathroom door gently, and was relieved to find that it was unlocked. As he quietly opened the door and closed it behind him he felt the steam that hung in the air begin to cling to his skin. His head began to clear of the questions as he looked up to see Angela's silhouette standing behind the shower curtain.

He suddenly realized how odd his behavior might appear and began to turn back until he heard the shower curtain move.

"What are you doing?" Angela asked with her head sticking out of the shower. She didn't sound angry or frightened, just genuinely curious about why he was there.

He marveled at the way her hair looked soaking wet, and the way little droplets of water had collected on her lashes like drops of dew. He stood with his mouth agape for a moment before he was able to find his words. "I, um, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You left in such a hurry," he told her lamely. He hoped that if he hid his curiosity as compassion then she would tell him what her nightmare was about.

Angela pursed her lips. "You're not fooling anyone, Jonathan. You just want to know what my nightmare was about so you can jot it down in your note book." Her brow scrunched in anger. "Well I'm not telling you anything unless you tell me what your nightmare was about."

Jonathan chuckled darkly as he took a step towards her. "Ah, it seems you've got me all figured out, my dear. Though I remember we already settled up on trying to get information out of me." A salacious grin spread across his face at the thought of the previous nights activities, and how he had had her in the palm of his hand.

He grasped the shower curtain from her hand and slowly pulled it away as he took a step closer into her space, standing right at the edge of the shower as he looked her over. He felt his mouth grow dry at the sight of her. Her skin was tinged pink from the heat of the water, and droplets ran down her skin, tracing paths he wished he could follow with his fingers. He watched closely as he sensed that same mixture of fear and passion within her, and decided to put his deductions to the test.

"Of course, I wouldn't mind settling this the same way we did last night," he told her, his tone full of implication.

Jonathan certainly wasn't prepared for what happened next. He heard it more than he felt it, but his jaw dropped in shock nonetheless. It was the wet slap of her palm as it connected with his cheek. His hand reached up to wipe the water from his face before he turned back to see that she was seething.

"How dare you mistake me having sex with you for full, unrelenting trust with both my mind and body. I'll trust you when you finally decide to trust me, Jonathan. Now get out."

Jonathan, still baffled by her actions, released the shower curtain. He exited the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. As he was rubbing his sore cheek he swung the door open to the workshop to find Edward sitting at his desk.

Edward turned his head to Jonathan and chuckled. "ooh, looks like she got you good. Having a lover's quarrel, Jon?" He laughed as he caught view of Jonathan's redened cheek.

"Keep your mouth shut and your nose out of my business, Edward. I don't have time for you right now," Jonathan growled as he headed towards his lab.

"That's too bad, Jon, because I've got some important news that needs to be handled immediately."

Jonathan stopped and crossed his arms over his chest in irritation. "Lets hear it then."

A wide and mischevious grin spread across Edward's face. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"WHAT!?" Jonathan hissed sharply.

A dark look crossed Edward's eyes, though his grin remained. "You heard me loud and clear. Our little friend made it out of the mad house. I'm sure he'll be headed here soon enough."

Jonathan's thoughts instantly jumped to Angela, and what this would mean for her. He couldn't imagine a scenario in which this situation didn't end badly. An image of Angela lying on the ground, dead, with a cup of tea lying shattered beside her ran through his mind. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to erase the image.

Edward stood from his chair and placed a firm grasp on Jonathan's bare shoulder. "What's the matter, old friend? You seem distraught, or dare I say, afraid? You don't plan to run away and abandon your friends for some girl, do you?" Edward chuckled condescendingly.

Jonathan slapped Edward's hand away and took a step back. "Like I said Edward, keep your mouth shut," he hissed. "I've got work to do. I'll explain everything to Angela before Jervis arrives."

"You better hurry. There isn't much time left."

Jonathan slammed the door shut to his lab before locking it behind him. He removed his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms against his sore eyes. He felt a migraine coming. There was so much he had to get done in so little time, and the stress was beginning to become unbearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to anyone who was subscribed and got a notification for nearly 25 chapters I just uploaded, but hopefully you've enjoyed each and every one of them!
> 
> A huge thanks to anyone that's made it this far, and yes, it's been very long since I've updated but this fic is always on my mind. I will not abandon it, but if you doubt that feel free to send me a message and ask.
> 
> I would also like to invite everyone to follow me at flsalazar on tumblr. Sometimes I draw.


	32. Chapter 32

Angela sat in the back seat of an all black Cadillac. Jonathan sat on the seat beside her. A hired thug sat in the driver’s seat.  
Angela, to say the least, was not pleased with the situation. Jonathan had come into the room and tossed a coat beside her on the cot and told her to get ready. He had given her little to no explanation. Jonathan's outfit was the only indication of how she should be dressed for their outing. He had walked in dressed in a dark blue button down shirt and a pair of black dress pants. His shoes were polished, his hair impeccable, and a dark scarf hung loosely over the black, mid-length trench coat he wore.  
Angela hadn't packed much when it came to fine clothing, so she had to fumble around in her duffle bag for a moment to find something suitable. She finally decided on a pair of dark blue jeans, black high heeled boots, and the black turtleneck sweater she had taken from Jonathan on their venture to Wonder City. While rifling through her bag she also came across the diamond necklace she had gotten from Jonathan the night of Luthor’s fundraiser. She put it on in the hope that it would elevate her look a bit.  
She felt extremely uncomfortable with what she wore as she sat in the back seat of the Cadillac. She didn't feel nearly as elegant as Jonathan looked, though he assured her that what she wore would ‘suffice’. His choice of words did nothing to comfort her.  
“Would you mind telling me where we're going?” She asked impatiently, and not for the first time.  
“And be rid of that nervous look on your face? I would prefer not to,” he said with a smirk, “Besides, the fear of the unknown is truly the most fundamental fear of all. You should learn to overcome it as quickly as possible, otherwise there's sure to be trouble for you in our line of work.”  
Angela huffed childishly. “Don’t give me that fear nonsense, Jon. Just tell me where the hell we're going.”  
“It's not nonsense,” he said, his expression growing dark, “it's my life’s work.”  
She sat back and stared out the window, knowing she had reached her limit on his patience. She watched as they passed the snow covered streets of downtown Gotham. She felt melancholy wash over her as she took in the city she had grown up in. Being back in the city made the past few weeks feel like a heavy weight on her shoulders.  
The further they drove, the more she noticed the buildings becoming more ostentatious. The pedestrians walking along the street were all finely dressed. The women wore glittering diamonds and expensive fur coats, while the men wore bespoke suits. Jonathan watched as Angela shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  
“This was a horrible idea, Jon. If this is where we're going, I'm going to stand out like a sore thumb. I don't fit in with these people,” she said as she fussed with her coat. She had said it before, but it was glaringly obvious in this moment, that Angela did not feel comfortable around wealthy people.  
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I told you, you’ll be fine, Angela. I wouldn't bring you to the Diamond District if I thought you would stand out. No one is going to judge you where we’re going. You can trust me,” he said as he placed a hand over hers to stop her fussing. She immediately recoiled from his touch and shot him a glare, making it exceedingly obvious that she was still upset with him. “Petulant as ever,” he grumbled under his breath as he straightened his coat and sat back.  
They sat silently as the car pulled up to the most ostentatious building of them all. The Iceberg Lounge. It was one of the most glamorous buildings in the entire city, and certainly one of the oldest. It was a relic of its era. A fabulous art deco building with siding the color of oxidized copper, and window panes of glittering gold. The glass itself was geometrically patterned and stained in hues of green and blue.  
Angela felt her nerves rise ever higher as they got closer to the building. If she thought her drab clothes would stand out in the Diamond District itself, then she would certainly stand out in the Iceberg Lounge. As the car rolled past the building and around the corner she exhaled a sigh of relief. Even though she wasn't looking in his direction she could feel Jonathan smirking at her display of nervousness.  
The car pulled into an alleyway and came to a halt beside a door. Above the door hung a simple blue neon sign that read ‘VIP LOUNGE’. Angela stared at the sign in confusion. The alley they had stopped in certainly didn't seem like a VIP area. She turned her attention to Jonathan who was rummaging through the pockets of his coat.  
“Ah, yes, there it is,” he said as he reached into his breast pocket. He pulled a capped syringe from his jacket and held it up with a grin. Angela instinctively scooted away from him when she saw him holding the toxin. He couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. “You're delightfully on edge today, my dear, but I didn't bring you here to test this on you,” he said and held the syringe out to her in his open palm. She glanced down at the syringe and then back at him. “Just a safety precaution,” he assured her.  
“So we’re not going in there to kill anyone, right?” She said, trying to focus in on his expression.  
“Not intentionally,” he replied.  
Angela hesitantly reached out for the syringe and put it into her coat pocket.  
“Alright then,” he said with a satisfied grin, “right this way.”  
Angela held her coat close to her as the frigid air gusted into the car when Jonathan opened his door. He told the driver to park nearby as he held the door open for Angela. The door of the VIP entrance lead to a dimly lit hallway with a large metal door at the end, though this one had a small window in it. Jonathan knocked at the door and waited a moment.  
The small window slid open to reveal a pair of eyes that looked them over. “What’s ya standin’, with Mistah Cobblepot?” the man asked in a gruff voice.  
“Professional associate,” Jonathan replied.  
“Ya name, please?” the man behind the door asked in a bored tone.  
“Doctor Jonathan Crane.”  
The man behind the door squinted at him. “Ya otha’ name, please?”  
Jonathan sighed. “Scarecrow."  
“Alright, let's see here,” the man said as he looked down, presumably looking at some sort of list. “Which way does tha crow fly?” he finally asked.  
“By hook or by crook, the crow flies North,” Jonathan replied in a bored tone, as if he had been through this far too many times.  
The man looked back at the pair of them. “And who’s tha pretty bird ya got with ya?”  
“This is Rook, you can add her to my list,” he answered shortly, wanting to be done with this conversation.   
The man’s brow rose in surprise at that. “Yaint never added no one ta ya list before.”  
Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on from attempting to comprehend what the man had just said. “Yes, well I'm doing so now,” he responded with irritation. “Would you be so kind as to let us in now?”  
The window slid shut before a metal clunk was heard as the heavy lock was moved out of place. The door opened slowly as the man ushered them in. “Welcome ta tha VIP Lounge, Doctah Crane,” the man said. His gaze then shifted to Angela, as he openly checked her out. “And a special welcome ta you, Miss Rook. I’m pleased ta pop ya VIP cherry on this fine evening.”  
Angela turned bright red at the man’s vulgarity. Jonathan paused in his step to turn back to the bouncer. He stepped directly into the man’s personal space and spoke very quietly. Though Angela stood close, she couldn't hear what was being said, but she could see the large bouncer grow pale with each word Jonathan spoke.  
“Is that clear?” she finally heard Jonathan say as he patted the bouncer’s shoulder with a wide grin. The man gulped audibly before he nodded his head. “Very good,” he said before rejoining Angela and leading her into the lounge.  
The lounge was luxurious, as was to be expected. She had never been to the Iceberg Lounge, but she had seen plenty of photographs online and in the newspapers. It was typically depicted as a large night club and casino with glass dance floors, plenty of seating, and a central pool that held seals and penguins alike. Wherever they were now was never shown in any media coverage she had seen before. This room seemed to be below the main floor at the pool level, as there was a large glass window at the back wall that showed a series of penguins that dipped and dived in and out of view. The window allowed for pale blue light to shine into the otherwise dimly lit lounge.  
To the left of the room was a bar with a neon blue umbrella illuminated behind it. A female bartender in a pinstriped mini skirt and blazer took the orders of several patrons as a lit cigarette hung from her lips. To the right stood a small band that played a light jazz tune. Secluded booths lined the length of the wall. Small tables took up the space in the center of the room, as well as a small dance floor. There were a fair amount of people in the lounge, but not enough to make it feel crowded.  
With a hand at the small of her back, Jonathan lead Angela towards the bar. “What the hell did you tell that guy?” she whispered to him, still in awe. “He’s nearly twice your size and you got him to look like he was about to faint.”  
A grin spread across Jonathan's face. “You’ve so much to learn, little Rook. Someday you too will be able to strike fear into the hearts of even the most courageous men.” He pulled out a chair for her by the bar before grabbing her coat and draping it over the back of her seat. As he took his seat beside her he got the attention of the bartender.  
“What’ll it be, old man,” the bartender asked Jonathan as she took a drag from her cigarette and let the smoke billow over him.  
Jonathan grimaced and waved the smoke away. “Charming as ever, aren't you, Lark?”  
Lark’s deep red lips formed a devilish smirk. “Been a while since we seen you here, Crane, especially with a lady. We was startin’ to wonder about you, if I’m bein’ honest.” She flipped her ashen brown hair before taking another drag from her cigarette.  
Jonathan frowned and answered her question in a dull tone. “I’ll have a bourbon sweet tea, thank you.”  
“And for you?” Lark asked, directing her attention to Angela.  
“Just a tequila sunrise, please.”  
“You got it. First ones on the house,” Lark said with a wink and turned away to get started on the drinks.  
“What a charming place you've brought me to,” Angela told Jonathan sarcastically.  
“I told you your outfit would suffice.”  
Angela rolled her eyes. “Maybe, but I don't look nearly as dressed up as you do,” she said as she gestured to his outfit.  
Jonathan looked down at his clothes before glancing at her outfit and then back up to meet her eyes. “You're joking, right?” He leaned in close, bringing his voice to an intimate volume. “My dear, you look absolutely stunning in my sweater. Don't think I didn’t take notice the moment you stepped out of the room, and the necklace I gave you is a lovely touch. Though to be honest, you could be wearing nothing at all and I would still think you were the loveliest creature in the room,” he told her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  
Angela blushed visibly and swatted his hand away. Her face scrunched in frustration. “I'm still mad at you, Jonathan. Just because I'm wearing your clothes doesn't mean I've forgiven you.”  
Jonathan leaned closer with a seductive grin on his face. “Oh, I know you're still upset with me. I think I might prefer it that way. I love to see that fire in your eyes, Angela. I would take you right here on the bar if I could,” he told her as he took hold of her hand and placed it in his lap beneath the bar.  
Angela gasped as she pulled away and swatted his shoulder. “Jonathan! What the hell is wrong with you? We're in public. What's gotten into you?” she whispered angrily.  
Jonathan chuckled as he sat back in his seat. “I’m just in a good mood. It's been a while since I got a chance to visit the lounge.”  
“Hey, Crane!” Lark shouted from across the bar. “How d’ya want that tea?”  
“Come now Lark, you should know me by now. Make it Georgia sweet.”  
“You got it, old man.”  
When Jonathan turned back to Angela she had a curious look on her face. “What?” he asked.  
“Georgia sweet?” she simply asked. “Is that where you're from?”  
Jonathan felt his mood quickly drop. “It's just an expression, Angela.”  
She could feel his walls come up right before her eyes. It was drastically visible this time as his icy mask snapped into place and his eyes grew dark. At this point she knew how to overcome those walls. She placed a hand over his, catching him off guard. His expression grew a bit softer at her touch. “I want to know,”she simply told him.  
Jonathan sighed as he laced his fingers through hers, reveling in her warm and comforting touch. “Not here,” was all the reply he gave.  
“Okay,” she said as she nodded her head. A moment later Lark returned and placed their drinks in front of them. Jonathan dropped a cash tip on the counter before standing and leading Angela to one of the secluded booths. She felt the mood instantly shift from leisure to business the moment they sat down.  
“I didn't realize you brought me here for something serious,” she said. “Go on then, tell me what's going on.”  
Jonathan sighed. “Why don't you have a few sips of your drink first,” he said as he took a long sip from his own drink. Angela followed his lead and drank nearly half of her drink at once. She could feel her nerves building, but she sighed as she felt the warmth of the tequila wash over her.  
“I certainly felt that quickly,” she laughed. “It's been a while since I had a good, strong drink.”  
He wanted to laugh with her and enjoy that warm look on her face, but he had bad news to deliver, and a smile wouldn't be fitting for the information he was about to tell her. He leaned forward and gave her a serious look. His chest ached when he saw the smile slip away from her lips.  
“Angela, some unexpected news has recently come up, and it's going to drastically change our situation.”  
“Are you getting rid of me?” she asked suddenly, a look of terror crossing her face.  
Her reaction made it difficult for him not to laugh, but he held it back, settling for a smirk. “No, my dear, I wouldn't dream of it. But… I'm not sure if you’ll even want to stay after I tell you what's going to happen.”  
“Just tell me, Jon.”  
A somber look settled on his face as he met her gaze. “Jervis Tetch, or as you're more likely to know him, the Mad Hatter, has escaped from Arkham. I tried to talk Edward out of it but he was very adamant about us taking Jervis back in.”  
Jonathan watched closely as he saw the fire flare behind Angela's eyes. “No,” she barked fiercely. “Absolutely not. That lunatic burnt down my job. There's no way you're letting him stay with us.”  
Jonathan cringed. “We really have no choice in the matter. I need Edward for my work and if we don't take Jervis in then Edward will leave. In Jervis’ defence, that heist was planned prior to us knowing you, and it was planned by me. If you want to blame someone for that then feel free to blame me, but don't hold it against Jervis. He was just following orders.”  
Angela slammed a hand on the table, catching him off guard. “Damn it, Jonathan. I don't trust him. I heard about what he did to those girls at My Alibi. How can you expect me to feel safe being trapped with that… that creep?”  
“I promise you, Angela, no harm will come to you. I’ll make sure of it.”  
“You're not always around, Jon. Do you expect me to believe Edward would defend me if something were to happen? I don't trust him. I don't trust either one of them.”  
Jonathan’s gaze hardened. “Unfortunately we don't have a choice in the matter. Jervis is going to be staying with us. The decision has already been made. Fortunately, you still have a choice. I told you if you wanted out then you're free to go.”  
Angela grimaced. “And I already told you that was never going to happen. I've made my choice. This is the life I want. I'll fight for it if I have to, but you're asking me to unnecessarily put myself in harm's way. I want to stay, Jon, but you have to promise me that you're not going to let him anywhere near me. I want nothing to do with him.”  
Jonathan took another long sip from his drink and nodded his head. “You have my word.”  
Angela squinted at him for a moment, trying to assess that he meant what he said. Once she drew her conclusion she decided to push for more. “And I want you to tell me what your dream was about,”she said with a completely serious look.  
Jonathan nearly spit his drink out. He coughed a bit and then shot her a glare. “You're asking for a bit much now, aren't you, little Rook?”  
She met his glare with an even heat. “Tell me or I walk out of that door right now and you'll never see me again.”  
Jonathan chuckled at the front she put up. He leaned in close as he spoke. “You just told me you would fight to stay. Why would I believe you when you say you’ll leave. Besides, I don't think you could get rid of me so easily. I would find you again.”  
“I’d like to see you try,”she said as she stood from her seat and began to walk away.  
“Wait!” Jonathan said in a sudden panic as he grabbed her and dragged her into the booth beside him. “Now, now, little Rook,” he purred as he wrapped a hand around her waist to keep her in place, “no need to go causing a scene. You've made your point.”  
She turned in his hold and looked at him very seriously. “Tell me,” she demanded.  
Jonathan frowned deeply, knowing that she had him right where she wanted him. He meant what he said when he told her that she could leave whenever she wanted to, but that didn't mean he wanted her to leave, and she certainly knew as much. That didn't mean he couldn't have a bit of fun with her.  
“Hmm,” he hummed contemplatively as he rubbed his chin in mock thought. “Perhaps I would tell you, but it might take some convincing,” he told her with a devilish grin as he caressed her cheek and pulled her closer to him.  
Angela slapped his hand away. “I already told you. We’re in public. I’m not doing that here.”  
“That's not what I meant,” he drawled. “I was talking about your dream. I want to hear about it.” He mockingly rolled his eyes at her. “Does everything have to be about sex with you?”  
She made a sound of indignant surprise. “Does everything have to be about sex with me!? You're the one that put my hand in your lap at the bar. What did you expect me to think you meant?”  
Jonathan chuckled. “What an amusing creature you are, Rook. But honestly, I don't think my terms are so outlandish. Quid pro quo? I tell you my dream, you tell me yours? You get to stay, and I get to keep you close?” he said as he pulled her closer for emphasis.  
Angela sighed and nodded her head, knowing that this was the only way to get what she wanted from him. They both wanted information, and neither one of them wanted her to leave. It was a fair arrangement.  
“Very well then. Allow me to get us another round of drinks first. Sounds fair?”  
Angela nodded and stood from the booth to let him pass. She waited patiently for his return as she sat back down. When he returned with their glasses refilled he sat in the booth beside her, despite the fact that she had returned to her side. Angela said nothing, but looked at him expectantly.  
Jonathan sighed and took a drink from his glass. He closed his eyes for a moment as he let the smooth tones of the live jazz band and the murmur of the patrons voices settle over him. He opened his eyes again when he felt Angela place her hand over his. She watched him with a concerned look. He laced his fingers through hers, reveling in the comfort she offered him.  
“I should tell you now that this will not be easy for me,” he sighed. “I haven't shared this with anyone before. It's quite the vulnerable topic for me. Do you understand?”  
Angela nodded and squeezed his hand in reassurance. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he began.  
“It's always the same dream,” he started slowly. “I'm standing in a corn field just as the sun is fading over the horizon. It's some time between summer and fall, where the stalks haven't fallen yet, but they've dried out from the sun. I can still feel the heat coming off the ground from the evening sun, but a cool night breeze blows against my back and sends a chill down my spine.  
“The sky begins to darken as lightning flashes in the distance and thunder rolls through the sky. I see a sickly stalk before me begin to rise, growing ever taller. It withers, and drips with black tar as it takes on the wretched form of an old, demented scarecrow - its arms cast wide, its hands like claws, its mouth agape in a twisted display of terror. It looks like it's going to swallow me whole… and then… it does.” Jonathan reached out for his drink. He hid it well, but Angela noticed the slight tremble in his hand as he put the drink down. She waited patiently for him to continue.  
“After that, there's nothing. Nothing but darkness. I take a step forward and wood creeks beneath my feet. I realize I'm no longer in the field. I can smell moisture in the air from the rotting wood, and my lungs fill with dust as I take another step. I feel around in my pockets for a box of matches. As I light it I look down at myself and see that I'm no longer me as I am now, but I'm me as a young boy. I'm wearing an old suit, stained with blood and something chemical. The smell burns into my nostrils, choking me.  
“and then I hear them.” He squeezed Angela's hand tighter. She looked up at him and saw that he had turned pale, and a dark fury burned behind his eyes. It chilled her to the bone. “It starts off as just one echoing croak. Then, one after another, I hear the caw of crows above me. I look up and I can see their beady eyes reflecting the light of the match. Hundreds of them, watching me. They begin to circle above me. Their wings gust the air around me. I feel them glide past, drawing closer and closer. Their talons claw at my clothes. They peck at my skin, tearing my flesh from my body. As I begin to weep from the pain I hear a wretched laugh. I hear her voice. ‘Whoso despiseth the word shall be destroyed: but he that feareth the commandment shall be rewarded!’”  
Jonathan slammed a fist on the table, shaking their glasses and making Angela jump in her seat. He took a brief pause to calm himself. “I drop the match. The light goes out. I wake up.”  
They sat quietly for a moment. Jonathan stared ahead, avoiding eye contact, and seeing the spirits of his past as if they sat at the table across from him. Angela detangle her hand from his and reached up to take hold of his face. He flinched at first, and she watched as he blinked the past away before leaning in to her touch. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  
“Thank you for telling me,” she spoke softly as she gently brushed her fingers through his hair.  
Jonathan exhaled slowly, his brow was knit tight. He bit down on his lip as it began to tremble. Then he spoke. “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.  
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.  
She gave them some broth without any bread;  
And whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.”  
She heard his voice crack as he recited the rhyme, and she was startled to see that a single tear had slipped from the corner of his eye. She gently brushed it away with her thumb. The sensation surprised him and he opened his eyes. He grabbed her wrists and gently brought them away from his face.  
“You’ll have to excuse me, Angela,” he said solemnly. “I need a moment.” He stood from the booth. Angela watched as he headed to the bar, asked Lark for a cigarette, and exited the lounge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone that's left a review recently, but I would especially like to give a big thank you to pirate-cashoo on tumblr for that song recommendation. It really kicked my ass into gear.
> 
> This fic means a lot to me. So even though I haven't written in a very long time, it usually just means I'm stuck. It doesn't mean I've abandoned the fic. I appreciate the concern, but you have nothing to fear.


	33. Chapter 33

 

When Jonathan entered the lounge he was surprised to find that Angela was no longer sitting in the booth they had been sharing. He quickly looked to the bar. She wasn't there, but Lark made eye contact with him and pointed to the penguin tank. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Angela standing in front of it.

He took his time as he approached her. Her body language suggested that she was worried. Her arms were crossed, her stance took up as little space as possible, her shoulders were slouched and her head was down. She wasn't even watching the penguins. She was just standing there deep in thought with her nose nuzzled into the collar of her turtleneck with her jacket wrapped snugly around her.

Jonathan stood next to her and looked down at her until she noticed his presence. “Oh, hey,” she said softly. He had no doubt she had been worrying about him and blaming herself for his sudden absence.

He said nothing as he reached forward and began to unroll the collar of the turtleneck until it partially obscured her face. Angela's eyebrows rose in surprise as she peeked out from her collar. “Hmm,” Jonathan murmured as his head tilted to the side.

“What is it?” she mumbled through the soft fabric.

Jonathan remained silently in thought before he responded. “This gives me an idea about a costume for you,” he told her. He then surprised her further by taking both his hands and combing his fingers through her short hair until it stood straight up in a faux hawk. “Yeah,” he said more to himself than to her as he took a step back to appraise his work, “that would look cool.”

Angela began to shoo his hands away so she could attempt to push her hair back into place. She appreciated that he seemed to be in a better mood but she hated to have her hair out of place. He chuckled at the slightly annoyed look on her face when she rolled the collar of her sweater back down.

They both sighed as the music of the lounge washed over them. At this point a singer had joined the jazz band to cover Julie London songs. Angela imagined they looked quite picturesque in that moment as they stood side by side, their silhouettes illuminated by the blue light of the penguin tank as the birds excitedly darted past the glass. She grabbed Jonathan's hand and closed her eyes, trying to imagine what they might look like from the view of someone on the outside. She had to admit, she liked how they looked together. She liked the way his fingers curled around hers in search of warmth. She liked how he had opened up to her and made himself vulnerable.

The Lounge singer began a cover of Cry Me A River, a song Angela was quite fond of. She looked up at Jonathan. “Dance with me?” she asked timidly as she remembered the grace he had danced with at Luthor’s fundraiser. He nodded silently and led her to the dancefloor to join the other couples there.

They held each other in a gentle embrace and swayed softly to the music. Jonathan brushed a hand over her hair and brought her head to rest on his chest. He wanted to enjoy this moment and be as close to her as possible.

“You smell like smoke and alcohol,” Angela murmured into his chest.

Jonathan chuckled. “My apologies. I needed something to settle my nerves.”

“No,” she told him, brushing off his apology, “I like it, it reminds me of My Alibi. Just don't make it a habit on my account,” she laughed.

Jonathan thought for a moment. “Did you like working at My Alibi?”

“You know what, I actually hated it at the time. I used to complain about it all the time, but it was quaint. Now that I think back on it, I did have some fond memories.”

“Fond memories? Like what?”

“Well,” she began wearily, “I enjoyed the music there. I used to imagine having the club to myself, where I could dance while no one was watching. It's silly now that I think about it,” she said as she laughed at herself. “And I didn't mind my co-workers. We got along.”

“Hmm,” Jonathan said as he gripped her just a bit tighter. “Your co-workers? You mean that bartender?” He found himself hating the thought of that burly simpleton watching her as she swayed to the music of the club. He clenched his jaw as he imagined Don flirting with her as she put in drink orders for her clients.

Angela tread lightly at the topic of Don. “Amongst others,” she answered truthfully. “Don was nice, but it’s obvious he wasn't the man I thought he was. Him working to get information on me came as a surprise. It certainly taints my memory of him.”

Jonathan sighed, satisfied with her answer. He thought for a moment before he asked another question. “So you used to imagine yourself dancing at My Alibi? Would you imagine yourself on stage?” he said with a devilish grin.

Angela rolled her eyes and laughed. “I would,”she told him. “I imagined I was the star of a show that no one else was allowed to see.”

“And what would you wear?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky tone.

“Jonathan,” she said with a bit of warning in her voice.

“Come now,” he cooed, “was it really so lewd that you can't tell me?”

Angela sighed, feeling defeated. “Well, there was this outfit my friend Stephanie would wear when she was performing. She would wear a pair of black mesh thigh-highs with this intricate lace at the top, and a garter belt. The belt had this really beautifully stitched pattern of flowers on it.” She took her time as she spoke each and every detail out to Jonathan, knowing that each word had his heart beating just a bit faster. “I imagined myself wearing the beautiful, dark one-piece she would wear. It was just barely see through in all the right places. The top connected to the bottom only at the front, leaving the back tastefully exposed. It was more like what you would expect a lover to wear than a stripper.”

“And you really never imagined anyone there watching you?”

“Well,” she said softly, “sometimes I would, but I never imagined a crowd. Sometimes I would imagine that there was one man sitting in the darkened club, watching me intently, like I was the only thing that mattered to him.”

Angela could feel Jonathan release a shaky breath. She could hear his voice deepen as he spoke again. “How often did you think of this?” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his soft breath causing a chill to run through her. “Did you ever touch yourself to such thoughts?”

Angela blushed profusely. She wrapped her arms behind his neck so she could bury her embarrassed face in his shoulder. She imagined his darkening, lust-filled eyes, and suppressed a groan as her knees went weak.

“Go on, little Rook,” he continued to whisper to her. “Tell me how you would touch yourself as you imagined being up on that stage, as a lone stranger watched you.” Angela stayed silent, biting her lip, knowing that whatever sound she made next would be a moan escaping from her lips.

“I'll tell you what I imagine,” he told her. “I imagine you staying up late at night with such despicable thoughts. I imagine you splayed out for no one else to see but me as you work yourself to completion. I can just imagine the beautiful sounds that would escape those perfect lips of yours as you writhe around, searching for release. Oh, I'm sure it would be a glorious sight to see,” he told her as he pulled her close.

Angela groaned at the feeling of being pressed against him. “Keep talking like that and I just might have to take you right here,” she whispered into his ear.

Jonathan chuckled darkly. “Not just yet, my dear. You still have to tell me about that dream of yours.”

She sighed. “You really are a villain, aren't you?” She remained in his embrace as he laughed and the next song began. “Have it your way then. I'll tell you about my dream, though I don't know if I could remember it in as much detail as you remembered yours.”

Jonathan nodded. “Just tell me everything you can remember,” he told her patiently.

She told him that she remembered standing on a rooftop on a frosty winter night, and about the feeling she had of being watched. She remembered running away in the hopes of escaping the dark shadow that followed her, and the way she could hear her own heart pounding in her chest. She told him about the dark figure that had cornered her, and the fear she felt when it landed upon her and consumed her. She couldn't help the chill that ran down her spine as she retold the tale. Jonathan remained silent as he contemplated what she had said.

“What do you think it meant?” she finally asked him.

“What do  _ you _ think it meant?” he replied in turn.

Angela rolled her eyes at his psychiatric gimmicks. “I don't know. I was sort of hoping you could tell me.”

Jonathan surprised her as he spun her. He turned her until she was facing away from him. He wrapped his arms around her midsection and rested his chin in the curve of her neck as he spoke. “Only you can know the true meaning of your own dreams, Angela. I can only make my assumptions from your interpretation.”

She pressed her cheek to his and closed her eyes as she trusted him to lead her through the music. “I suppose it has something to do with feeling guilty about that guy we tested the toxin on,” she began. “I know you said it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel guilty. That man died because of us. Because of  _ me _ . I think the shadow that was after me was the Bat. Maybe it was a premonition about justice coming for me.”

Jonathan stopped dancing and turned her to face him. He met her nervous gaze with a look of agitation. “Don't you ever let me hear you say something like that again,” he scolded. “You're entitled to your guilt, but don't you ever say that the Bat is some kind of deity of divine justice. He's human like the rest of us, and he doesn't get to decide which of us is right or wrong. You were not wrong, Angela. You only did what I asked of you.”

Angela pulled away from his hold and took a step back. “Do you really think that makes it any better? Are you saying I didn't have a choice?” she asked, becoming frustrated. “I had a choice, and I made it. From the very beginning, when I stepped between you and the Bat, that's when I chose this life. I may not have known the consequences, but had I done something different that man wouldn't have died.”

“Keep your voice down,” Jonathan growled as he took her by the arm and pulled her aside to a more secluded area. “We may be in trusted territory, but there are always people willing to sell information. Now listen to me,” he said as he lowered his voice but remained stern, “you cannot continue to blame yourself for things you couldn't foresee happening. We've gone through this before. You blame yourself for your father's death, you blame yourself for saving me, for the way your life has turned out, for that man's death,” he said as he counted the events on his fingers. “No more. I know exactly what your dream means. It means that you're still afraid of living for yourself, afraid of the consequences of your actions. That isn’t what I want for you. When you found me in that alley, did you think about the consequences, or did you act on instinct?”

“Jonathan, I-” she began, but he cut her off.

“Exactly. It was instinct. You didn't feel fear in that moment, and you didn't feel fear when we were working with Oscar, so what's the use in feeling it now? I believe what you're experiencing is a relapse of those same fears you held on to so tightly when we first met. Your fear of consequences holds you back. If you're interested, I would like to help cure you of those fears.”

Angela looked back at him incredulously. “You mean use the toxin again? I don't know, Jonathan. It wasn't exactly a good time when you used it on me before, and it left me feeling pretty emotionally numb.”

“Oh, my darling Rook,” he said, his voice sweet as honey, “I promise you it would be so very different with you as a willing participant. I understand your trepidation, especially after the last experiment we performed with the toxin, but I assure you it will be safe and controlled. I have many strains that are well tested. You’ll soon have nothing to fear.”

He spoke to her in a lulling, reassuring tone. It was something that should have been comforting, but after knowing him for some time now, it only served to set off alarms in her head. This was the real danger when it came to Doctor Jonathan Crane. It was what Batman had warned her of the night he had appeared in her apartment. “ _ Don't let his charm fool you _ ,” he had said.  “ _ He's dangerous _ .” A chill ran down her spine at the memory. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed, but Jonathan chose to keep the observation to himself as he waited for a response.

After a moment Angela took a deep breath and fixed him with a steely gaze. He was a bit taken aback by the sudden determination in her warm brown eyes. Her voice was stern as she spoke. “Absolutely not,” she told him.

Jonathan's head cocked back in surprise, as if he wasn't quite sure  he had heard her correctly. “I’m sorry, what was that again?” he asked with a sharpness to his tone that set her on edge.

“I said  _ no _ ,” she responded vehemently. “I told you I had no interest in having the toxin used on me again and I meant it. You used it on me against my will. I don't feel like I can trust you when it comes to the toxin.”

She noticed the anger in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak again, but she would have none of it. She spoke up before he could make a sound. “Please excuse me,” she said as she pulled herself away from his grasp and headed towards the restroom.

She gripped the edge of the porcelain sink tightly as she let the water begin to run. She felt fire burning its way through her veins, so she placed her hands under the cold water, allowing it to calm her nerves.

She felt closed in. Jonathan had offered to release her several times, but she now realized that what he was truly offering was more like opening the door to a cage in a house where all the doors and windows were locked tight. She knew that no matter what she said, no matter how long she fought it, eventually, he would use the toxin on her again. She could see that much in the way he had looked at her when she told him no. It was only a matter of time, and she knew it would never be enough for him. She knew that someday it might kill her.

Angela jumped in surprise as the door to the restroom was flung open. Her heart leapt to her throat, thinking that it was Jonathan coming to test the toxin on her then and there, but she shortly realized that it was just the bartender, Lark.

“You’re awfully jumpy,” Lark said with a smirk. “Looks like you seen a ghost.”

“Sorry,” Angela said with a forced laugh, “you just caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, well... ah... look,” Lark began looking sheepish, “this is gonna sound crazy, but speakin’ of ghosts, one of our bartender's from upstairs came by earlier to grab supplies while you were starin’ at the penguin tank and the Doc went out for a smoke. He said he recognized you and asked me to give you this if I got a chance to talk to you alone.” Lark pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her blazer and held it out to Angela.

Angela's head tilted in curiosity as she took the note with trepidation. Her mouth hung open as she noticed the familiar handwriting on the outside that read the words ‘ _ for med-school _ ’. “Ghosts indeed,” Angela whispered in shock.

“I’ve gotta run,” Lark said hastily. “Take care of ya self, and Doctor Crane too.”

“Thank you, Lark.”

“Don't mention it,” Lark said, meaning it as more than just a figure of speech.

Once Lark left, Angela shut off the sink, dried her hands, and promptly unfolded the note. Her eyes raced over the page, knowing that Jonathan would be looking for her soon.

_ ‘Angie,’  _ the note began,  _ ‘I’m so happy to see that you're still alive, but seeing you in the VIP let's me know just how bad things really are. I'm giving this note to Lark in the hope that it’ll make its way to you. I know you're probably wondering how I know about your situation, and the truth is that I took a job from Luthor to dig up some dirt on you. I know, it's the sleaziest job I ever took, but I couldn't pass up on the resources he had. I had to find out if you were okay, no matter what it took. But now you're here and I can't believe my eyes! I know you must be going through hell,  being kidnapped by that freak Scarecrow and brought here like it's some kind of date. What a creep! Please Angie, if you can find some way to get away from that monster, come and find me. I promise I can keep you safe. We’ll run away from Gotham and start a new life together, and you'll never have to worry about a damn thing ever again. _

_ I want the best for you, _

_ Don. _

_ PS I still owe you a date.’ _

Angela exhaled slowly. She wanted to cry, and scream, and just run away from all of her problems, but she didn't have time for any of that. She couldn't even begin to unpack what any of that note really meant. She simply folded the note back up and shoved it into her coat pocket.

She opened the door to exit the bathroom and jumped in surprise when she noticed Jonathan waiting for her in the hall. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and raised a brow at her nervous reaction.

“Why so jumpy?” he asked. 

“Y-you just caught me off guard,” she stammered.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he eyed her with suspicion. He held an arm out to her. “Let's get going. Edward should be arriving with Jervis soon. I would like to be there to welcome him back.”

Angela looked at him with surprise and just the smallest amount of dread. “Jervis is arriving tonight?”

Jonathan nodded and led her outside. Angela pulled her jacket closed as the wind swept past them in the alley. Their driver hadn't parked far but the short walk felt grueling as the chilled air nipped at their exposed skin. Despite this, Angela paused for a moment as Jonathan opened the door to the Cadillac. He shot her a clearly agitated look.

“What's the hold up?” He asked with irritation.

“Just give me a minute,” Angela said as she took a step back and closed her eyes. She took a slow, deep inhale of the crisp winter air. She smiled as the cold air burned in her lungs and escaped her in a light puff. The air in Gotham was neither pleasant nor fresh, but all that mattered to her was that it was familiar. This city was her home, and though it was full of crime and mayhem, she found that she had missed it during her time away with Jonathan.

When she opened her eyes she saw that Jonathan's look of irritation had softened to one of curiosity. “I’ve just missed being outside,” she answered his unasked question. She felt a sadness begin to well up inside her as she began to recall the thoughts she had in the bathroom. She wondered if she would ever be able to enjoy the feeling of being immersed in her city ever again, or would she be trapped in Jonathan's cage forever? “Please, just promise me we'll be able to be out in the city again soon?” She pleaded.

Jonathan's face slid back into that same old mask of indifference, but his jaw clenched, giving away something more. He wanted to grant her that promise, to give her everything she ever asked for, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't lie to her and say that they would ever be able to freely walk the streets of Gotham ever again. So he opted to be cold. “Get in the car, Angela,” he said as he pulled the door open a little further.

Angela shoved her hands in her coat pockets. As she clenched her fists she felt the syringe of toxin in one hand and the folded note in the other. One lended her a sense of nostalgia that she longed for. It told her to stay firmly planted on the pavement, or to walk right back into the lounge, or to run away and never stop running. It told her that it didn't matter what she did, as long as she didn't get in that car.

On the other hand, she heard a voice in her head that told her to step into the car and never look back. It told her not to fear what was ahead, that things would be difficult but she would come out stronger in the end. It told her to fight- to not give in to her fears.

Despite the danger that screamed for her to run, she listened to the second voice. She had ignored the fear before and she would ignore it again, because she knew the reward would be worth it. Angela stepped forward, but instead of getting into the car she grabbed Jonathan by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss. She couldn't control much in her life, but she could control this.

She left him breathless as she claimed his mouth. Her tongue brushed his lips, and he permitted her entry to let her claim that as well. He would give her anything she asked for in that moment. If she asked for his heart he would plunge a knife into his chest and dig it out for her himself. She made him feel weak, like she could kill him with a single word. He was glad he had the Cadillac to lean on, otherwise his knees might have buckled beneath him and caused him to fall helpless at her feet.

He knew she was afraid. He could feel it in the air around her. He could practically hear her heart pounding against her chest. It was unmistakable, and yet she chose to stay with him. He knew that his talk of toxin had sent her into a panic. He saw the animalistic fear in her eyes as she debated making a run for it. Yet she chose to step forward and welcome the fear. She was braver than he ever could have hoped for, and he was so glad they had found each other.

Angela finally released him but didn't pull away as he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he held her face in his hands.

“What for?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“I shouldn't have brought up the toxin. I know it makes you uncomfortable. I should have known you would be upset. I know you don't think it's safe, but I truly meant what I said. It would be different, and it could help, but I won't push it any further. If you're ever interested, I assure you that you wouldn't have to worry about a damn thing ever again.”

Angela felt a chill run down her spine as his last sentence brought Don’s note to mind. She did her best to brush aside those feelings for later. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said calmly as she laced her fingers through his. “Now let's get the hell out of here, it's freezing.”

“Well said,” he laughed as he held the door open for her. She couldn't help but notice the slight giddiness in his voice as he said, “Let's hurry. We can still make it there before Edward and Jervis arrive.”

As their car drove off towards the hideout Angela closed her eyes and tried to imagine how they looked. They sat close together as she rested her head on his shoulder and their fingers were laced together as they sought out each others warmth. The lights of the city passed over their faces, revealing the delicate smiles they each wore. She had to admit, she liked the way they looked together, and she would never trade it for all the comfort or safety in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this one. I'm really trying to improve on making my chapters less dialogue heavy but it's been tough. Any constructive criticism would be helpful.  
> Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated.


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